through fields of mirrored selves.

[ana_morphic]

hold.
steadfast.
she knows you're coming.
she can feel your feet on the ground as you run circles around yourself.
over the hill and around the corner
and through the mirror to the other side again.

shattered pieces of things you thought you knew are growing vines from the slices in your chest.
hold you heart tight, she's clutching you.
breathe deep, there isn't much air left.
feel your left hand
your right
are your feet still there?
are you still standing?
can you still feel the wind along your cheeks when you peddle?
have the circles yet turned to sand?
sand to stone.

stand still, she's coming by
careful and she won't see you
careful or she won't see you
don't move a muscle
don't budge
definitely don't sing that song

touch the air
it's hot with energy
seething with tension and thoughts of you
comiserate you aren' the only one here
i can see you out the corner of my eye
we aren't even home anymore
this isn't the place we left from earlier
but we're definitely here
you can't deny that we're here
you can't deny that we've always been here
but we're touching ground
we're touching ground
my toes are tingling in the sand
my fingertips are searching again for something soft.