again...

I ran again...

I fell again,
and he talked in his deep Spanish accent,
walking through the swinging glass
of past pressure-
slipping through dimensions
of the resounding sounds
-folded behind the entrance
of the portal to my memory...

and I bowed again
*(my head slightly in front of my computer)*

and I pretended again
I didn't see him.

and again and again
from below this heep of sheep,
I felt the warmth of his voice
and the swing of the glass
and the echo in my head of captive thoughts

and again and again and again

I'd bow eternally again.