your limbs get longer, your vision sharpens, your teeth bare, the thing in the core of your being elongates out leaving a hollow hole in the center, wrapped around by a body in perfect tension. your self ceases to be a noun and becomes a verb, gliding an inch above the ground, like an insect, powered by its own lightness and ready to devour. you can only know stillness when you are poised before this much possibility of activated movement
