Who is the one touching?
Who is the touched one?
Clouds, perhaps a colorful bird or a thought.
They come and they go.
They are unrooted.
Clouds or some landscapes without roots.
You are a bag of skin inside of there is emptiness.
So, there is no mover, no dancer.
There is emptiness.
And you dance.
With a sense of playfulness.
…because all the souls wander around. All the ghosts and potential forces that give a pain and leave a painful slit behind become furious while they do everything to bring the owner back to life.