pulsing:

we bite and we sip

we skip (class)

hands bound tight like hardcover books

we slip

through the cracks of the cold concrete,

(you are thin and i'm just paper)

we kiss and peck

lie and wait

hands bound tight

like ballerina slipper ties

we slip

and fall and tumble

always landing on our bums but we always win

pulsing, we jump hurdles in everyday life.

one battle after the next, but we always win