skaters
i am hiding in the past because no one looks here. my eyes watch the skaters go by, on ice that looks like water. what a joy to participate in this party with a body, even a ruined one. i dig in the wrong places, but at least i try everywhere. who am i to say they are wrong?
my half furled body wants to sprint, to push and burn my muscle fibers with the feeling of work. i think i have done a good job with myself, but there is no denying the feeling i could work harder. the skaters go round and round on the oval. i contend staying in one place, digging really deep.
some people practice a lifetime to glide on one foot half the length of the rink. they are all practicing, unclear what for. maybe for nothing. maybe the feeling of flying is enough.