## Muscle Memory There's so many cool places to see around here. I find it hard to walk with purpose because there aren't any wrong turns. Good place to be a jellyfish. I found myself over by the Ferry Building, connecting with the waves. I learned recently that an inner monologue is a useful thing to have. I think I can sort of make words in my head? But do they make a sound? They're quiet like they are written, tiny splashes of ink on my inner surface. They stay there for a moment and vanish as they evaporate through my pores. They're written in me with a soft brush, almost three dimensional. The ink doesn't weigh anything. I find it takes a lot of work to keep something written inside. I can't force anything to stay. Sitting by the sunny water in cool air. I let it swish through me. A shape of breeze slips through one of my facets, leaves softly through another. Nothing in between. The wind muses around me? It sounds curious. Some pigeons whoosh past from behind my eyes. I didn't expect them, but at the same time I don't feel startled. I love listening to my nerves, every inch is full of chatter. Shiver from my neck to my fingers. I relax, my head straightens. My calf muscle says something in morse code. My wrist straightens. My fingers tingle slightly, charged. I breath in deeply, my lower back adjusts, crackles like a small glow stick. The soles of my feet slack and hug the earth. My ankles straighten. What a beautiful day.