i can image that the peregrine falcon might feel this way in the heat of the dive to plummet,
and I'm simply on fire.
what galactic fucking god has put its magnet inside of me?
as though time had stopped,
my heart explodes, and again i sit staring with my chest immutably percussive...
to reach for the conduit (old circuitry) or fondle the capacitors that paced us;
i feel alight to the wind in symphony, awake to the scent of epiphany,
and frightened like a little girl who wet her panties in front of grandpa and never left to cry.