There's Just Hoops
When I see a court. When I hear a ball. When the mesh, imperfect, dances on a breeze. Sights and sounds become a feeling. It's sweet. It's sweat. Stinging the eyes, demanding more. It's escape, it's freedom. I know it. It knows me. It's all I know. And it's unknowable. Because in the moment there is no thought. There's just hoops.