Colors I used to be but am now
in a cow’s head
I am not moving
Only as being inside a head, lends you to not moving
‘til its decapitation
I could count the cow heads
I am
dusty and immediately known
by an orange bright smell
Similar to a daisy shape
being in the cow head
prevents
decapitation
from functioning properly
punishingly
A debt always serves the symbol
Symbolically I am lying when I
Say it does not matter if your head is in a head
But I am outside anyway
Providing feet for rocks to crunch on
of the stones I bathed
where everything dreamed is real
but real is not always true
From inside a cow’s head
a thing wetter and less together
the meat is me, for you