re: reminder: recursion

asymmetrically the boy fell
first one-third of him
and then his face
and then the rest
he left only an eyelash behind
suspended in the strangeness that
was its faceless life

the more the boy wandered the more
he grew.

seven stars glittered that night
only seven, strangely.
but he was used to that
he was used to seven stars
and silent singing,
somnambulism and personification
his bookshelves kept on laughing
at him.
he didn't know why.

so when he fell to pieces
he wasn't surprised.
only uneven.

some days were better than others
before the fall.
he had winters, springs, summers
and sometimes leaves change color
at the end of summer
so his life was pretty much normal.
except not.

in retrospect,
looking back beyond deep dark holes
and downward momentum
newer, normal worlds -
glancing circumspect
to catch it before it ran away -
life before the fall
was not normal
it wasn't normal at all.

but he kept on growing.
he couldn't help it.

looking up, with two broken legs,
the boy felt very small.

his legs healed
and he got up
and he walked
on, and on,
and on and on
and on and on
until someone
got tired of
making him
walk.

it wasn't that he couldn't stop growing.
he couldn't stop walking.
and he knew there was an answer
a reason. he knew.
it was like a puzzle, only
he loved puzzles. and he didn't like this.

three years later, after he had
grown for three years,
he jumped -
first his lips,
then his torso,
then his everything else.
it was kind of like a puzzle.

so he tried to reassemble himself.
sometimes it worked,

and sometimes he only thought it worked.