The blanket

I return covered in feathers like an exotic bird. I can fly but I can swim as well.  I’m a fish, a shiny, salty fish. I am of a binary nature I say. Oh dear, that’s just to fool my self. My nature is far more than binary- it’ s too complicated. It’ s almost unknown to my conscious self. I try to catch a snake but it slips away from my slippery hands. Oh dear. It gets away as soon as I feel sure that I’ve caught it. Therefore, I cannot fish a fish, I cannot hunt an animal. I plant flowers instead. Flowers relax me. I feel calm as I plant the seed and see it grow. I feel secure with this controlled motion, a safe liveliness. I let it be and it lets me be. I love you flowers. Grow. Grow. Grow. And let me crawl upon you so I can reach the sky. Let me approach the sun. But not too close. Getting too close to light is getting too close to a burning wound. I prefer a blanket instead. I need its warmth. I need a blanket instead. A blanket. Please.