Monday, August 20, 2007

Stopping in the middle of the room, I dropped to the floor. A soft orange light coming from the hallway crept across the room to meet the darkness seeping in at the window. Slowly, I found myself moving. I stretched, contorting my body, finding muscles long unused, straining into shapes with no name. And, pushing against the night, I burned.

I stood, and caught myself in a mirror, shirt clinging to shaking ribs, heart beneath resounding. I was as a beast released, too long caged in the small private places of city living, unable to move for fear of upsetting some delicate something. It was momentary, no true freedom to be found between beige walls, but a hope for things to come.

posted by Ian Aleksander Adams at 9:11 pm  

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