nothing is in tune with this thought and the curve of his
my hands are stretched, not for the sky
but the wooden floors and the cement highways and the dirt underneath the sea.
Let me down from here!
And hear voices all around me,
themselves and each other as if I didn't exist
I am not as angry about this as I would have been
But still a little unnerved by that I would be insecure at all.
That is, if I am going to be flying
I would like to just float.