With every step forward on my route to the front, the desperate flapping of old trunks tore at my back.
But the branch was forever detached, and with each new lashing my gaze was more and more and more detached from the distant horizons I had learnt: and my face was taking on the expression that came from within,
the definite expression of a feeling of intimate liberation; a feeling that arose from the sustained balance between my life and the truth of the kiss of new paths.
