Losing Myself In Air

I find it hard to hold my world together. The morning broke apart into glittering pieces of reflected sunlight, countless wings beating the air, sirens, dandelion seeds exploding soundlessly out of a feathery ball. I chased a thought across the river until it was too far out to reach and was taken by the tide. Sometimes it's good to break apart, to become floating fragments, particles lifted up, a pulsing breath escaping out of a ship's funnel leaving a long wake of sound until finally splintering into silence. No-one can find you when you learn to lose yourself in air. Words become sails searching for meaning to be carried towards a somewhere or nowhere at all.