River of Wind

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I walk down the river of wind

expecting to drown

and yet

I find myself being carried by the day

like an angel made from clouds

holding my hand

guiding me down the stream

I stop and rest

at the bed of the river

smelling flowers and weeds

beautiful and indistinguishable

and so I start to arrange them

into new forms

new combinations for the world to see

 

 

Final Thoughts

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When I think about the day my eyes close

and my last breath has made it’s way out

into the world

never to return again

I know that I’ll care nothing for all these clothes

and handbags

and lipstick

that never stood a chance to survive

in this mind

that calls out for a true life…

Bone Density

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I think for a minute

about the shapes that turn to matter

in the pit of every bone

weighing me down

becoming my prison home

“Is this the cost of living?”

I ask

as I stare down the aisles

of my supermarket mind

tearing every box

from every shelf

laughing maniacally

forgetting time…