Soaring

The room is dark

Yet I’m flying light

 - through endless space at 100 mph

I would soar to the ends of inhibition and contradiction

stopped only by the limits of my mind’s creations

 

My soul howls like an alley cat

Wanting to rip free of this trashy exterior

And roam the dusty streets of possibility

 

A pause

Mouse perhaps

Should I chase?

Let the yarn ball decide

Says the fuzzy brain-between ears