Flimsy

I am the storm I cannot help but be
with the slight equipoise of awareness
which spares me nothing at all since I am
underneath my understanding of me

whimsical as its own atmosphere,
layered like an ocean that has a trench,
my mind ‘s many globed as dropped mercury,
can stipulate the dew that clings to grass

I am puzzle that, in making me fit,
gives …