A swell of velvet red rising, warming its way into every facet of you.
Feet that carry, firm and unwavering.
Hips that hold and twist and bend you forward and over and back.
Chest cage open, resting and receptive, fallow in-between the flood of fresh oxygenated blood
Like Princess Scargo’s pond all dried up to four fish.
Yet the tears wept in their honor created a perfect pool for them to swim again.

Again again.

Or as long as you choose
To walk and bend and twist in this pond we’ve come to know you in, this form so fragile and fleeting.
Trust you’ll find the way, carried by the great red swell.

Back to us for now. Back to us for now.