Paddleball

I am rubber.
I am a pink round ball.
I am tethered by some strange stretchy string.
I am flying free, then suddenly --
I am tugged in a new direction.

Without warning, I am crashing,
Head over heels, smashing into you.

You are rigid.
You are a paddling flat board.
You love to yank and knock your little round ball.
You drive me away with that flat coolness.
And draw me in with elastic charm.

But I am rubber.
I hold my shape.

Pencil Sketch by KilJoi