Trying To Fit In Somewhere

A creature made of pure
imagination creates itself
with every single thought.
It shifts so rapidly in its
indecisive youth that it takes
upon itself the shape of a storm
that’s far too close to look at.
In the forest it becomes
a walking sapling that can hold
water very loosely in its branch
like hands. It turns it through
its fingers like a baseball
moves within a pitcher’s grip.
After wandering into a church
the stain glass gave it glorious
ideas of an oscillating picture
made of every single color
that told the stories of all
the saddest points in history.
Out in the city it took on the look
of a statue made of concrete, steel,
and glass. The silhouette was human,
but its steps were like a hammer
to the ground. Birds would land
on its shoulders and hitch a ride
from one block to the next,
preferring its dark glimmer
to the sky.
The movies were its favorite place,
where no one tried to talk,
and it was everything it wanted
both within the screen
and whatever was without.

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