X-Ray Vision

Watching things crumble, things that are not things
Or thoughts half woven, crocheted,
Not clouds that look like farm animals or big shoes
Or a mother’s love.
Blushing, watching, watching it unravel because hem needs mending
And time is a capricious trickster and
the yarn got loose but the seamstress is sick and
Stuck. Stuck on questions not asked years ago,
Free.

Watching without knowing, it’s almost
As bad as living without thinking without
Thinking too much. Take a bow and autism’s stepmother
Will throw you a rose.
Catching it won’t make a difference.
Neither will applause or this or that.
And not that either or the ether thorn, hiding.