Poet & Thief

Helium He, 2

I watch as he circles,
wings spread, body at ease,
for he knows the surrender
of air, trusts what it holds.

I imagine being a balloon
slipped from a hand–seeing you
from such great heights.
How you fit into the world–

into this snowy landscape
you and I
are grounded
in.

We can’t help where we come from
nor where our hearts go.
If love was a place,
we’d both X it on a map.

Boots by the door, jackets flung
to the floor. The scent of cold
we bring in with us, shed slowly
like our clothes.

 

 

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