Gregor

Without a second thought
he tumbled down the way
already forgetting where he came from
and how far he’s been.
He paused to pet the petals of a lone soul
crossed in the motion of a moment
on the tarmac road.
They shared a piece or two
of themselves
and returned to their respective
travels

Without a second thought
he disrobed his mind of outer layers.
Exposed unclothed,
naked truth.
Gets him a little closer
to himself.

Without a second though
the lunged toward water
instinct swelling.
All wet
swimming through substance.
He supposes it’s the closest he’ll ever be
to flying.

Without a second thought
he counts and recounts
his marbles.
83 red ones
68 blue ones
25 opaques
really, the list goes on.
And on.
He likes their smallness,
holding them in his hands.
Cool little spheres
tranquil trinketsto his fingers.
He didn’t do anything with them,
like construct towers and castles of slides,
he never sent them rolling.
He just held them.
Sometimes two at a time, to feel the slight grind
of glass on glass.
They were sort of lucky.
They were his thing,

Without a second thought
he chewed on his toe nail.
He knew it was a disgusting habit,
he just didn’t care.
There was a deep rooted pleasurein the grossness of the act.
That it was his, made it ok.
His toe nail,
his own little piece of himself.
And he only did it while he was thinking,
it wasn’t like he would bring a toe nail
to the grocery store to chew onwhile picking up some hummus.
But really, he had no shame.
It became a point of pride,
something that made him
him.
A quirk, uncommon and therefore
almost cool.
It was the “almost” part that made it really cool.
Underground cool.
His thing was so gross, mainstream couldn’t hang.
He was proud to be that weird.