Inside and out

We've been inside so long

that all we have seen is our own lives and our own ways.

Small enclaves of circles in an eternal cycle.

We have been inside for so long that we are hungry for the light that will not come back from where it has been hiding.

We have been inside for so long that the swarm of thoughts that we did not hear in the noise of pulsating cities and people rumbles in our ears like the beat of one of the songs you can not let go.

Let's go outside, let's go outside.

We have been inside for so long that the birds' songs feel like a rebirth and the gaze of a stranger as either cross-border or fascinating.

We walk outside with trembling bodies that, in anxiety, powerlessness, and redemption, seduce the time sucked into a presence we had forgotten.

We pretend that we do not already know the world we left and in which we have to live with a different consciousness.

We go out and heel ourselves completely into extreme positions that leave broken bones and broken dreams but call for new understanding and pent-up consciousness.