Rolling

by Alessia Collia


Ilikeballsthatbounce.
Thesoundthattheymakewhentheyslaptheasphalt,onlytokiss
theskyagain.
Thehopefularcitmakesasitfallsbackintoitssavior'sandtormentor'shand;;

Life,
likeaferriswheelthathoistsyouuptobrushthecloudsanddragsyoubackdownacrosstheground.
Itmakesyoudizzybutyoustillneverwanttogetoff.
You,
likeaplayersurroundedbycarnies,oddballsandringleaders.
Abreastonthehopethatyoumaywinoneofthemanygames;;yearning,forthelargestprize.
Notalwaysknowingwhereyoufitin,orstandoutinthecrowd.
Life,
isfullofcircles.


Inschoolwelearnallthereistolearnaboutacircle.
Inthesamewaywetry,distractedly,tocalculatetheradiusofourfacades,
thecircumferenceofourwaists,thediameterofourrelationships.


Allwithoutreallytryingtogiveanythingdimension,
dismayedwhenthingsdon'taddupthewaywewanted.
Probablybecausewe'renotcircles,we'respheres.
Us,
roamingourcrookedglobe'sface.
We'retooroundtohaveasolidgriponanythingreally.


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Thoughsometimeswebrushandsometimeswecrash,
likeagameofmarblesonasomewhereplayground.
Trustmeweareallrolling,growing,likeasnowball,
scaredofspring.
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