(no subject)
I feel restless in my skin.
Spiked and melancholy and off-center.
As though inside I am not woven of blood and bone but of tundra and wolf howls. Of sleek panthers and lions and leopards pacing, pacing.
At the edges of my senses I can feel their secret smiles, I can hear the whisper of their paws.
It is hard to concentrate, to sit still, because of this strange inner drive - the impulse to be going somewhere.
Spiked and melancholy and off-center.
As though inside I am not woven of blood and bone but of tundra and wolf howls. Of sleek panthers and lions and leopards pacing, pacing.
At the edges of my senses I can feel their secret smiles, I can hear the whisper of their paws.
It is hard to concentrate, to sit still, because of this strange inner drive - the impulse to be going somewhere.