reaching reaching
palms white
shaking
open
willing
i wait for the
air birds
to fall
thick
heavy
all a flutter
heaving
breaths
white innocence
glinting soft
down
falling falling
feather
snow
drifting
drifting
but
i can’t
make
it
stick
tight
fingers
grabbing
clutching
air
no birds
just
the space
between my
finger bones
telling me
the empty
still
eats
alone
sobbing
the feathers
fall through
clutching
hands
do you remember
that
summer
the wind soft
in your hair
lights flickering
about your
temples
no air birds
to haunt
us then
but
winter
is still upon
us
i grow
weary
of the grey fear
that sucks
my marrow
clean
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