An isolated being
Without isolated episodes.
Assured in its insistence
Of its hermitic existence.
Its contentment fleeing
When its fellowship erodes.
Scuttling.
Scurrying.
A furtive little twitch.
Burbling.
Blathering.
Reality unhitched.
YOU ARE READING
A Beetle in a Matchbox
PoetryNot particularly comfortable saying exactly what this is about. But I'd be interested in people's interpretations...
