To the skin where my fingers meet my palms
Like they think they could do better elsewhere
Break free and
Have a really good go
Without the burden of me.

To my mind where it meets my self
Meets the contours of thought, the edges of effort
Where it wishes it could
Let go and breathe
Through the burden of me.

To the air where it meets my skin
Like it’s desperate and greedy for moisture
An end to sparks and static
Like it wants to take the water
From the burden of me.