Eucalyptus and Wise Cleopatra

Enamel owls sense my discomfort. Removed from the day’s phantom, that gooey greenness of life waxing me to a figurine. Since I hate spiders infinitely it is assured they will be my salvation, will weave my fate’s web and leave me a snug and silent cocoon. Stones cover dirt, but don’t understand control. Ice splits the earth, our handiwork, but only freezes the soul. I know where the soul sits but I will not share I am sorry but not very since my soul is dark and dripping with tar. My head buzzes like a bright bee shaking pollen like glitter.