Wandering moments cross the intersections of this soul these memories washing away residue. Chiseling my layers and assumptions I am more satisfied. Bitter barbs of pain decline their invitation and break the laws of gravity. I spin to a new signature.
The diction of my spirit quickens and the nuances of my expression shift boldly. My mind is more mine yet offered to one and to all. The quills of my impressions leave a lasting mark. The stains on my hands are not hidden.
Tiny tips of joy leave a legacy as I dare challenge sorrow. Swallowing my pride and hanging my heart on the line. Tempted to remain motionless I ask questions. The answers do not paint the perfect dream. I keep looking. Wrapped and spun richly I am surrounded like a butterfly before its first flight.
