Zoom - 10d - Index

Sprung from the ground, quickly into discomfort.

I force myself through via instinct (and a ticking clock)

Now I am alone - and thoughts flow by as I choose different sides of holding you.

Dangling faint brass jewelry, effortlessly, like childhood it is gone.

To leave what I hold is to shed being held.

I rise like unknown mist.

With the sun peaking out, one last time, I am enveloped again and quickly lost.

Matt Pinheiro