they don't like it. how you've unfurled your soft petals, opened wide that great big hug. face to the sun, or catching raindrops, it's a slight adjustment that doesn't drag you down.
you'll fly. you'll fall. you'll curse the sky...
you'll go back to that steady pedaling on your crickety bike, body defiant to great big hills.
hurdler, optimist, jam-grooving single girl singing fly me to the moon...
you're finding home now, the front door is your heart.