October 13, 2011 § Leave a comment

The mover floats, swims, dives, and tumbles through the interstitial fluid, free and unbound, breathless and soaked in possibility. The witness cannot be still. Unseen, she expresses the push and swirl of internal eddies and flows allowing her spine and arms to wander like seaweed in the current. And then, then, there is siren song, as sweet and pretty as a lullaby that brings the mover to calmer waters and the harbour of the cell. Bound once more, yet free. The witness exhales.


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