Slow(er)

As we walk our backs are low, our hearts pointing into our guts,
roll and hardened into seashells, gripped inside, the soft parts threatening
to spill onto the carpet.

We are not being defeated by malice – just absent-minded greed.
The foundation is removed brick by brick beneath our reddened soles.

Blinded

Cattle
set wild,
like gold fishes into the ocean –
wet scales
into unknown waters.
Literally.