Coming out of the wood, Mr worm who aren’t you really? Does your head spin like a tumble drier, when they bring out the axe to cut the tree down? Why is your skin so difficult to touch? How come they can cut you in two, and you still live on, despite the brutal destruction of your body?
Mr Worm is so strong, more so, without words:
I wish I could not open my mouth
I wish I could not speak
My mouth would be a decimal point
The edge of the tooth an abyss
My breath a mystery
What is not being said?
That is equally important