flexed like a trampoline skin,
it gave like a memory, accepting hand prints
that crosshatched, that built into constellations;
it promised, its fingers crossed,
and when it shook
we lay gobsmacked, at last alive;
is a floor untamed,
is a pitch in the raw,
take-as-you-find me, liminal, sly;
followed each person as they left the path,
rising to catch their boots,
supporting, not steering.
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