Week 13, Freewrite 1

I wonder if it’s time for a woman
like I wonder at the fullness of cabbage and
calenders, and if one can ever be learned
in the ways of birds. Snakes never were
evil, merely coveted for new skins, like I
for long legs and etymology. I found ants made in
my likeness, thoraxes bending to my will,
to my crumbs. My friend, once young, tried
to train a tick to eat cookies. The tick kicked
leg from chocolate chip, like some dog urinating.
Days later, we found it suffocated or starved,
that leg plucked from body, towering from a
pile of sugar like some Dido, some deity, some
sacrifice. Between my thumb, it flailed like
some snake in the wind, until I dropped
my last crumb to ground.