Wrapped up in black. The color of city. Jacket tucked high to the neck against the wind. I stride. Up across the 10th street bridge. The world slowly spinning a circle around me. Like some carousel of childhood memories. Passing cars. My father's hands. This pony. I stop on the rise. Listen to the voices sounding in my head. It took a long time to . . . start the spin . . . become the thing I am to you . . . right foot first . . . And you won't tear it apart . . . close the circle . . . without a fight, without a heart . . . spinning and spinning and . . .. Stand there high above the traffic. The stunning wail of distant trains on rails running into distances. In slow motion, I stare. The world--the words--speeding in swirls around me. Grasp the cold metallic cage--this chain link fence meant to keep me from hurtling my life away onto the unforgiving concrete below like cigarette butts--let the awkward angles dig into my skin from the pressure. From this desire to find the center that holds. To step back into time. Close my eyes and scream. From the bottoms of my feet. No words that mean--

It took a long time to
become you, become you.

[Indigo Girls, "Become You"]