wave.

rain soaked. sweat soaked.

tired from the steam and storm. moving my way towards me again. edging closer.

seems like the bucket got itself turned over again. I'm here looking at a bunch of odds and ends. another dance, in the heat of a thick crowd, with good good music this time....i moved even more. even bigger. even with some contact, but no weight. or maybe I rolled over a couple of backs a couple of times. maybe I'll feel it later. or now a little. yes. but, there it is. worth it, i guess. the small dance inside the big dance. the subtle language of the blood or bones. the nuance of a footstep. even cooler in the midst of chaos...to go slow, go in, go deep. watch the thread that begins the thought and quiet the chatter that scatters like birds from a shaken tree. to see old friends, faces...find new ones. to touch my own shy sight and bold moves simultaneously. to watch the little dialogues talking me into the corner. to dance anyway. with the right to be. my heart stirs, pulls the blanket up and rolls over. taking its time. funny how a new me emerges every so often. what happened to those old mes? just like the fire, coming back to an old home, but as a different me. somehow stranger and old friend at once. out of place. out of sorts. almost harder to penetrate the awkwardness, almost easier, like there never was a space. but, there was. sort of a ghost of a ghost, watching the whole strange show. pulled from the patterns and dropped in with something familiar.