Untitled (for the moment)

“Breathe in, breathe out,” she said. This pulse is an easy thing.
What we have here is simple coordination, a rhythm designed by a beat.
And we keep the time with our feet as we walk on unstable ground.
This is the collision of tension and grace, of chaos and sound.

With the planet spinning in an unnoticeable and steady motion,
We sleep-walk through it unaware of the reason behind the commotion.
And as gravity works its magic and our bodies cling to the surface,
She understands why he hates this, and why it makes him nervous.

There’s something uneasy about traveling without any answers,
Without anything real to hold on to, we might as well be dying of cancer.
In the distance they hear a calling and they crave a way to react,
But what is it that stops them? And why is it holding them back?


Copyright ©2008 Chrissy Santillan