Six and seven:
digits
with a snake's hiss,


As an observer
over the years,
six and seven celebrate confusion
switching inside and outside,
inside me,
inside out.

Seven seems six and likewise.
Staring at numbers before I start to say
buenos dias, but since
my cell is not resounding
with silver chimes sounding-

it rings in my solitary skull
With hopes machine can distinguish
one of the solitary digits from its sibling.

Shall I seek strength from six and a half,
or shall I rest
in the sharp square corners,
in which nine and four skulk?