grasps

i love movies because i can process them
in stills, maddeningly inaccurate in regards to the whole
but nonetheless an important, readable slice into the texture of the film
it is like how i process life, able only to pin down small slippery bits with my words while the whole of it rushes roaring by;
i wake up a fawn who grows into a doe
my brain the size of a clementine orange &
my doe-chest pulsing with breath