you so pale. stranger. friend of soul.
your back is to me now
facing the swings, the sky, the metal playground bars
pointed shoulder blades like wings
pushing at the flesh
pale skin martked - feathers breaking the surface an
your hair tumbled
windswept. abandoned. dark blond hurricane.
my androgynous stormed child-bird
on grey skies you
long for something
I can see it in your shoulder blades hunchling
indifferent to people so long as you are not caught in metal bars and cages
what do you long for tumble-haired bird-child, stranger,
heart of my heart?
you long for the sky.
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