swaying
never
stopping in between
the
relapse coming
deeper
than the Marianas
higher
than the inversion
it
shifts
ever
wrecking the path
the
narrow spaces of highway
missing
the flights
of
fancy and shooting farther
the
bosom beating
spits
and endless sobbing
torments
tatooed in the skin
scattered
in an ocean of reds
clueless
of the scenes
curled
to the self
rolling
down the slope
misfunction
in the junction
lost
inside and out
bungee
jumping of emotions
such
things happening
without
a doubt...