i feel like the wind
that rushes through a window
when i have a body
to long for
somebody to know
to ask from
to give to
to share a too-big smile with
something akin to magic
that pervades
suddenly
the usual fabric of this life
it makes sense, now, to
imagine my chest
abloom
with air, to float here
to feel alternately
wrung out
damply
and then so new & shiny
all of the unseasonable
wild and askful
want in me
finds a way to turn
instead of dissolving
in the dust
and salt
of daily air
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