His deep-seated anger reflects in his silence. One eye perched against a color. Black invisible thoughts decoding the sky. Once I saw him diving towards me, craving more air under his wings, but I moved out of the squirrel body. I felt no pain when claws landed. Just a gush of air. His dizzy shadow passes over when it's not reflected against an old piece of pottery. I know he's reading the inscriptions. Irritable little lines on clay.