I flee from you,
because you are always correct.
Your numbers always land
on accurate determination.
So I flee from you,
because the spirit flees from you.

I know the spirit flees from you,
because it tells me with the green caress
of the undergrowth on my taught
skin seeking comfort while I crouch
low, and it tells with a fearless bird chirp
landing jovial on my tongue.

You know the spirit flees you,
because you do not hear the spirit,
and you can't deny, the spirit
talks to everyone.