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My life is spinning on both sides

of a stainless steel coin

perpetually whirling

in the palm of my hand

head and digit becoming one

in timeless acceleration

luck and loss are merging

in motionless speed

the equivalent of a plane

propelling at dusk:

from within neither

progress nor regression

is witnessed

from without supersonic

movements seem so slow

so steadily the silver bird is

creeping across a summer’s sky

while the coin in my hand

still invokes the momentum

rattling in my fingers

cutting the air with a high pitched sound

the friction starts burning rose flesh

and in a sudden instance

it touches my thumb

losing balance jumping

plummeting dipping

to continue a dance

that never stopped

to begin with

within the outstretched

hand of a beggar

patiently standing by