Perhaps, you and I, in the wavering flux…

Perhaps so sloshed from the quick-hit buzz that a gritty clean start is the only high left.

A jagged split in the sodden wall…

The sadness breaks to release new life…

Shackles snap in a burst of speed… Mustangs gallop in the mountain grass...

Too many years spent hesitant… We forgot that sprinting is the purpose already…

A growing new vision about what is real…

Free again in the land beyond I.