I felt the rearing back of arms I'd had, was flung into the air, aloft curve. I floated comfortably for what seemed like this week, but the creases in the page still linger, skipped a line, stray pencil marks mark the margins. And when I fall, I'll fall asleep and I'll stop dreaming, I drowned, you could see me suffocating on my own words. I know I never will but now I'm weary of how very often these "excursions" need to be. I really hope that this road evens out, I pray the gravel sinks into the dirt below, but I'll carry on with arms at both sides, fingertips on alert for any sign of common ground. Ventured out, crossed a lake in my head, steady rowing...looked around, found your body. Buoyancy, floating softly. I hear it now, subtle heart beats, but they're drowning out in our party.