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Reaching out

It sears this reaching out.
Looking outward is really
non-existential.
Cocooned and cloistered
with my little fingers
working designs for me.
They take life, these designs.
Cocoon splitting,
feasting on my shell.
These automatons
leave me in the sunshine,
shade dweller exposed.
In panic I keep my
eyes shut tight.
Two skinny flaps
final defense, help
differentiate between the
felt and unfelt (dead and undead), coin
flipping self.