She moves at this incredible pace, until she doesn’t
She is consistent, floating. There are trees around, but the shade is missing.
It is a forest. She hears it, we are water. A giant ellipses. Small, miniature coils.
Warped minds and fathomed opportunities. This will be a good year, she shook her head.
It shook her body. A feverish cold, but one with intent.
I do not see the footprints. I have been carried.
Freedom in madness is powerful and it stings. Ecstasy. Hardly mistaken for chance.
A bell rings, distant. It is thought as a dry, unnerving hum.
Dismissed. Always, dismissed. But it is still there, a lullaby for linguists.
But the distance never changes, it is always in arms reach. Fingers swim through
a rotton September. Sweaty palms wrapped in an idea. Slipping through like sand.
It is all condescension. But she cannot stop the thoughts.
The bell keeps ringing and she screams.