I follow the traces to get back to
how I got here
you were very brave my son
there are tendrils
not tender that grab and go
grab and go
you couldnít have been braver my son
I breathe on the wire
between now and then
donít look down
look at me my son
I wish for a net
not my own
yet
your body finds you
fantastic
_________________________
Lose the drama; life is a poem.