There is a time now,
within the stitches and seams
of unborn thoughts and such
hopeful dreams
where I think I could
turn my back, stop twisting
in the vines of this slavery
and learn to walk,
not affected by the weight of the sky.
But I falter
as the ground cracks beneath me
I falter as joy
gives me a sideward glance
the stiches picking and unpicking
in my mind, longing for the decision to be made,
longing for the strength
to bring alive the buried bones
and conceive the bringer
of wild security.