I hold a pillow to my heart to remind
me of the power of human touch.
I scratch my left big toe nail on the
inside of the arch of my right foot.

This astronaut pillow molds to my
flesh and I massage between my left
toes with the right side of my right foot.

What possible difference could freedom make?
The call of a thousand terns squawking in self-denial.
When does our spirit become saturated or
Is there empty spirit evermore?