Have you ever looked at yourself? At the way you fold and rise like crusting bread? The way your skin divets and dips like it wants to get away from the air around it? Escape is your name; but you've forgotten it. So you sit there, forever gazing outward, instead of the inward crush for which you desperately toil.
Wring your hands. Feel the way your fingers stand apart like strangers in the street-- the way your tendons stretch and stretch and build the distance that strengthens your reach.
There are gaps in this world. Do you know the way to taste them?