now my feet won't touch the ground

i feel like i have ten million possibilities in my veins and nowhere for my fingertips to reach yet. like roots that would grow, maybe, from a little beating heart seed that's just waiting. with air like this who can sit still? my honey nights are gone with the winter.

pull my hair, twist my arm, push me, tangle me up in angry words or in lusty sheets. engage me.

now my blood is thick against the dusk. i’m tasting iron in my throat, swallowing all my words while i run from the soil. am i flying from the ground or into a swarm? can i have both? i’m not rushing anywhere except to begin.