On supported grounds we lose our footing
Angling and dangling towards the unknown
Waters below blue and black
Like bruises we can’t quite place.
Temptations to hold hands,
Reassuringly embrace; pull her back to safety.
Resistance of time, and love.
There is no momentum when gears stick
Just a simple necessity of lubrication
Risk, develop, shine.
Properly oiled machines
Weight of the world on our shoulders.
Powerful feats of engineering,
No longer Puppets, always Puppeteers.
Dance, cry, love, fuck
Never devoid of choice.
Elements in our grasp forming a whole
Living, breathing, dying.
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