The day I was born was full of movement,
and I'm still sliding today, from the left-
hand side; and every breath is a moment,
till I've no more spirit and no breath left:
If you were to tell me, "Movement's your muse,"
I'd say, "But I stay inside all the day,"
and you'd go: "Move. You've got nothing to lose,"
and I'd say, "You're right; please take me away."
"From what?" – "Well, static places where hearts rot
away; from vicious wells poisoned with bile,
the stagnant fluids of what we were not
placed here to spit out, much less to conceal:
So I sit and move-can't stick to the script,
since I sense a new something, my script's flipped."