She said, "you can only hold
one thought in your head at a time,"
like a small bird
that falls out of a nest--
delicate, its breaths urgent.
But as she is stating this "fact,"
I do not think that she is correct,
as each of my thoughts
darts
fully formed,
flashes of hummingbirds each time,
and each time, that sharp
little flutter
frightens me
when I mistake it for something else,
then it transforms
and finds a friend to fly with it,
each bird defying what makes sense--
just like each thought begets another--
related, but not always--to tag along.
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