I am a hearth burning, “come by me.”

Cold scuttles as any crustacean crawler, making way for bones and warm blood. Everything smiles with a squiggly
line
there are leaves
batter as you scatter
meander as you like
you’ve skulled your research
as any wine would do
do me wrong as right
it withers as
Earwax builds
yellow foundation
upon which we find
a school
you temper as I sly
lift sliding to an elevation
the crux of which
gurgles and throbs
battleless
we Can’t! we Can’t! we simply
cannot! stars
that collapse themselves
into rigid black holes
retaining continuity
I continue
brick and mortar are a building
bark and Berkeley make a tree
slime and eye-knobs tell me, Slug!