Liberated plunge, devoid of any plan,

soaring on wisps of air in pleasing free fall scrolls,

as if escalating the odds against

increases the chance of elusive triumph.

Anticipating,

throbbing with delight and

a little fear.

Trepidation’s heart beats,

and fashions simple routes to bolster

Fancy’s dream.

Whilst Mutinous Psyche

moves to deliver

the putrefaction of expectations and

to envelop my tissue paper germs of probability until

Disaster strikes

and, without back up,

Memory fails,

Heart falters,

Stories die.