Run, run, run.
Until your legs are wheels spinning off the planet.
Until your waist is a bag of rocks,
Tumbling and turning.
Until your lungs are smaller, bigger, gone altogether.
Until your air is coming from the wind
Until your heartbeat is coming from your feet.
Until your hair and your arms and your stomach and your legs and your knees and your feet are you.
Nov 27, 2011
Nov 27, 2011 at 10:03 PM UTC
Run, run, run.
Until your legs are wheels spinning off the planet.
Until your waist is a bag of rocks,
Tumbling and turning.
Until your lungs are smaller, bigger, gone altogether.
Until your air is coming from the wind
Until your heartbeat is coming from your feet.
Until your hair and your arms and your stomach and your legs and your knees and your feet are you.