They say watched pots never boil but they never seem to understand the thousand beats per second intricacies shivering between bubbles as they roil at the reigns. Everything escaping in momentary gasps, steaming rasps which they can never hear. Careful beads threading paths down silken plated skins, the cracking only carefully begins. They’ve never felt the build, the screaming head, which only leads them with flustered cheeks and dry lips to look away.
They say watched pots never boil but they’ve never sunk into dewy grass. A failed experiment in conditioning for even the dogs to turn away.