Fighting

To hold hands
is to be in chains.

Yours is a limitless force
that needs unboundedness
and to test the limits of reality.

Moments of peace,
fleeting,
when I can hold you
are but a conspiracy of entropy.
Then you spin and twist and thrash
and are scattered.

As you charge off into
nowhere,
you turn back
and I know that, whilst I can’t hold you,
you need me nearby.

I follow.