Sometimes I am only on a boat and it rocks and bobs under me, sometimes I am on a lazy river and it's just a gentle sway, sometimes I AM the boat in an angry sea and everything inside you is flying around untethered and crashing into the walls of your body. (Fairly obvious comparisons, I know). But sometimes I am just the ripple of a footstep in a puddle that only means you have made a movement through the world. Sometimes I am a frog hopping between your ribs, landing with an extra bounce under it's bottom. Sometimes I am a balloon bouncing along a wooded path in a child's hand. Sometimes I am a baby swayed and rocked in loving arms. Sometimes I am a child on a swingset who has gone too high, feet pointed to the sky, waiting for the thunk of the poles and seat to rise and fall with the half frightening thwack beneath me and the rattle of chains. Sometimes I am a rubber band in your belly, stretching and twisting. Sometimes when I push and pull in algae rich water that feels almost oily, I am merely a fish on a line pulling against the hook and current. Sometimes I am angry, sometimes I am afraid, sometimes I soothe, sometimes I whisper I am here, but only just.