I keep walking these circle, these monotonous circles. And I can't stop walking in these circles, these circles around you. But you keep walking straight, from point A to point B, so seemingly efficient. And sometimes I cross your line and I nod at you. Mostly because I'm sure I agree.
I keep trying to walk beside you, to walk your straight path, but inevitably I end up in the trench of circles I have paced deeply into the ground. I watch from below, jealously, as you walk your tightrope above me.
You're so beautiful as you dance from point A to point B; a wail, a bellow, a roar of sincerity.
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