/ yellow balloon /

you wish to know your landing,
so you want answers to turn at exactly what degree.
but I waltz and flow into your sand of time,
and whirl them into fumes to pump you free.

I do not have the road map,
and the destination is worthless to trail..
please, just float and shine on high,
and adorn the places you don’t know that’s there to be.

/ ink on paper /