Slow.

Step back.
Sort of scattered marbles on the floor
I pivot- I didn't mean that.
Glaring headlights leave me raw and burning
Hand up.
Sort of wind-whipped blades of grass beneath my shoulders
I trip- how did I get here?
I forgot how being single means getting graceful at the let-down again.
All coming down, we all fall down
Roll over.
It's all in my phrasing, your body language
I wanted to warn you about my feral streak
Unbroken.
Wild-eyed and running for the door the instant I feel a brush of
Iron or leather meant to keep me.
Keep it laughing light in soft focus
Anything else is still too
Sharp.