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Dear wind,
Slip me over your shoulder and carry me.
Hold me like a hammock.
Cradle and cook for me.
I’ll put my hands in your hair at the nape of your neck,
And smile in your ear.
turning obstacles into popsicles
And it will change me, all this. Will build up walls and break them down.
Will surround this heavy heart with battements and thorn tipped leaves.
Will then pluck them away, one at a time, savoring the small piece of my whole that sits at their base. Slowly. Curiously.
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