i don’t claim to set the boundaries on my freedom.
checkpoints tend to become distractions
the trees shapeshift in the night buried deep in the sinking kingdom
frightfully stirring, unconsciously aligning through permeable borders
forwards cowards
onwards or bend backwards
a gripped touch shuffled past emotions, lowering and cowering
concealed by a brash rhythm.
subtle inclinations shiver your frown
freedom can be locked in a box unruled.
the kingdom with a forgotten crown
and a lonely clown not fooled.
What you made will fade.
Like the sun creating shade.