The freedom of motion twins its stationary contender. I finally get a car. Wheel grace for god-thought, I cup my left breast, I sit still and go everywhere, catch earth up into new wholeness I dare, despite myself, vociferate wheel faster than contradiction. Manta ray, palm down, sky’s jaw I wheel forward, am not her but the four horsemen of. In her attention cruise recklessly through the deer-trails, wind-paths, local fates of rust and mold and beloved mosses. Now must I love you from afar, no longer imprisoned and no longer among you, I caress you with the tenuous hands of this radiant metal reflector, the just waking light-mingled tress call out my name. Jacob!
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