social creatures or on ant-bridges
it’s about having a place. about becoming
your own movement. your sister is an abutment,
and your sister is a railing, and your sister
and the next time you are a girder. loadbearing.
without you, your sister would fall. and so would your
sister and your sister and
and what if one of them, when she feels a step
on her thorax, grows tearducts? and what if your sisters
in their marching, their following of a common scent,
feel like one being, which is at once stretched flat across
the landscape and also dipping into the hill and filling it, which
is at once being birthed and feeding itself and dying and
holding an ant-hewn hand under herself for support, ant-girders
supporting how they can, and she cries ant-tears that crawl
down ant-cheeks? what of being part of a larger whole?
it’s about being a place. being an ant-tear. being the cheek
it wets. being the girder it rusts, and rusting, and being caught
by your sister and your sister and