and then floating,
around your brain and back
and then forth through your limbs.
Human touch is delicate,
and yet we flinch and fight and hesitate
(all from a distance).
Who was wrong
to have been that deliberate...
The world acknowledges movement
and the poor attempts at emanicipation
creates pseudo-spaces that scream and silence us.
It brings us closer to the beginning and the end.
Only until I am thrown again to the current
or forced to try again.
Those prairie winds blow through my hair
and I know I am not free.