Shaken into structure I stand-
Four quaint pillars my base-
If light burns fire, act or act not.
The foundation of me will slowly break-
For you small thing-
My mistake.

High heels tapping down tile corridors
the cool synthetic sticking to your skin-
pink. pink like the colour of your brain.
Like the pigment of you lips that speak.
Speak in echos. Reaching far and wide,
in fuzzy radio static.

Feet slide down timber halls
the clank of chain on chain round neck-
gold- gold. like the ideas in your mind.
Like the voices in your head, they yell.
Cryptic messages bellow. Reaching far and wide,
in blurry waves of light.

What it means to be full-
To sense the tap of dewdrops on petals
And feel air as a piece of sky. To
bear the torment of expression.
What it means to be full-
To walk from heel to toe.
Knowingly-
We. Us.                                           Human.