Pure

Pure;

Like socks on floorboards.

Pirouetting until a hole appears —

Then barefoot again.

Tiptoeing at 4 am,

Like a cat down a well thought out route.

Avoiding creaky floorboards,

That might as well be squealing pigs.

Jeté from one plank to another,

While holding a breath.

Then inhale the static.

The fuzzy, electric kind —

And look into the tube

With barely-open eyes —

Forgetting to be scared of the dark.