the pounding behind the ribs
the waterfalls and wild horses
the fly so high and fall so low
the running fullspeed
and the punching and biting
the raging and ripping
the depth and space
the lack and excess
the through and through
the more and more
the dark and light
the screams and shatters
the laughter and crying
the up and up and up
the bending and breaking
to give into it or not?
what does anyone need anyway?
and who's the lying for?
(i wish her voice would change meaning for me, soon)
"A prayer for the wild at heart, kept in cages" (T.Williams)
Saturday night.
M.
No comments:
Post a Comment