the wind blows east, along with my arm
flaying across the fields
if it ever reaches you, please pull me back.
and take me where the heart is, say home, say here.
there's a spirit underneath soil when its washed,
it lifts onto the air, long enough for the clouds to come and kiss it
you were standing in the middle of something that feels like earth
you're here before, you've danced with me
from dawn till dusk
the smell of youth's all over us—
when the downpour has filled the window sills, you were soaking
screaming, devotion looks like downpours
your mother says. “clean, holy, barely human. believing in something against them is what they often worship.”
the breeze broke my wrist, you looked over
your lips caught the salt of the ground, you bury yourself in water, pulling me.
you said home. you said here.
- z //𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘧𝘪𝘦𝘭𝘥𝘴 𝘭𝘰𝘰𝘬𝘴 𝘧𝘳𝘦𝘦 𝘰𝘧 𝘺𝘰𝘶. //