connect the dots

in the night everyone wore
their horse faces. i was trying
to figure out where my phone went
or who stole it. a box theif
trotted buy. a fox planted
dots all over the town.
when was the last time 
you followed numerical order?
i am no longer the first born.
now i am just an orion.
taking a quill pen & drawing 
bridges between every breath.
how did i use to know myself
so clearly. i would draw
my own outline each day starting
at shoulder & ending at ankle.
these days a point is here
& gone in a flash. i find
a speckle labled 23 but cannot find
all the others. the image 
could be anything. helicopters fly
with the sole purpose 
of finding out. i am not concerned.
we are either still alive tomorrow
or we are not. i make my own
on my bedroom wall. you are still
working. i should be sleeping.
instead though, i make a horse
from dots. i'm going to make
someone try to thread them.
there are days where everyone i meet
looks like this. a collage of 
unthreaded nexuses. i scoop a handful 
from them. pocket those points
to one day make a new self
i can where when the night
is this orange. i store them
beneath the moon where 
not even the crowns know to look. 

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