that music
weave over our heads
like slow motion sparks
- growing up to lose this fire lit
under my lungs
because mediocrity becomes
irresistable
- lifting my feet to run far and looking down
to find my ankles caught in roots I have planted
unconsciously
- forgetting everything that has ever
happened to me
- writing for so long that I sound like everybody else
- the spaces in the world shrinking so I cannot find
places to dance
- never feeling like my soul and my body
match each other
- running out of time
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