I move from room to room, A phantom in the morning sun
I move to fill the vacant, I move to fill the stillness, I move to mirror my interior.
Restless in the comfort of silk, Confined to the four walls of my brain, I move to an irregular beat, My feet dance across the negative space, Fingers outstretched to nothingness
Maybe if I move, Maybe if I manifest, I’ll find tactility, Maybe,