There is something you've never noticed about a circle.

   Look Again

  There is something you’ve never noticed about a circle                                                                  Look again. Grasp the midpoint, then absolve yourself of it                                                         Circles begin nowhere/do not exist, say the mathematicians                                                                 That an infinite number of points make up a curve that                                                                 Comes around to join back to itself, ebullient and round

  Do not look at that line anymore, and avoid the center                                                                      Look inward, diving into the space between, as it expands                                                                   As the universe, roaming lost, without concern for form                                                                   Imagine a dry, fall field dusted in a zillion snow flakes                                                                   Where a little deer stares back at you, stunned yet calm

  Naturally, it saw you first. Of course, you were distracted                                                                   By peering at the center. You are making something happen                                                           You’ve had an expectation--yet another fear--and it flees                                                                    But you have missed that too. You have become one with                                                                 A humanity of pessimists:  The trash is half full

  When you go to bed without desire to, a fire goes out                                                                     Before the day is gone. Shed your skin without blinking                                                                      As a salamander, squandering time slinking the planet                                                                        The mosses, stoned riverbeds on your belly, crawling                                                                     Puzzles of hot rocks, avoiding edges, forgetting count

  Amongst the Navajo, the skinwalkers, roaming witches                                                                    Yee naaldlooshii, which means, ‘He goes on all fours’                                                                        To disguise as, and become a beast, calm or growling                                                                       Be unaware. Forget the number of limits of the brain                                                                     Multiply by months, add choices for a nation of chimps

  Divide by desire. Slither past all sunburnt recollections                                                               Wandering living thing, through the burden of long swaths                                                            Collecting abundant streams of time. Let’s acknowledge                                                                     How hard it has become--a vortex, narrowing, accelerating                                                                 With options, and the excruciating screen

  Lay your head on my lap by the candle flicker. I’ll retract                                                               My claws to trace your lips, stroke your eyes closed, run                                                              Through your hair like a forest without a center. Go on                                                                       All fours, naked-unaware in the best way, ignoring reigns                                                                Summoning the round limitlessness of blowing out