New Wings
Flirty feels forced, awkward,
like day old bread trying to pass.
Serious feels to vulnerable,
to many secrets are likely to unfold
before the wings dry for flight.
The vulnerable moment where so little
can crash the delicate wings and
end the life that’s only just come to its own.
A windy day can mean death.
A carless grab can knock the dust from the wings
and end the dance before it begins.
What perfection,
what combination of Karma is required,
for dreams to take flight?
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