The biggest small things

Little jigsaw pieces that fill up the room; they're all made from the same claydoh but they're not quite the same. Some are noodles and some they're taut wires. Some have double voices and some speak in whispers. Some eat cucumbers and some chocolate. Sometimes a grin and sometimes a wail. Some you cannot stand and some you cannot have enough of. Some a blank stare and some bookends for poems. But they fill up the whole room there's no time to arrange the pieces because they're moving, they're slipping, they're running and hopping.

But that's okay because I've memorized the scenery.