...and I
the balloon held by the hands of a blue and windswept sky just bob along as if expecting that at any moment I would burst and one more movement up or down would shift me to a formless place.

This
my face set to the day as if not the balloon but still bob, bob, bobbing on my way waiting for the pin to ***** and I a little sick of floating high disown the sky and buy myself a lighted flame.

'Tis dangerous but I like the game at times.