because when it comes (and it doesn’t often), i know the wind will go right back out that window faster than you can say “purple cheese is slightly horrifying although less so if you’re not expected to eat it.” yea, faster than you can say that.

poetry

i live for moments
where (like right now)
my heart is beating
slightly too fast
and i’m just a little
faint as the wind blows
through the window
across my face and furls
my brow but i don’t notice
because i’m completely
wrapped up in what’s
happening and awaiting
my chance to say something
i hope is profound
but will probably just
be profoundly stupid.

i live for moments
like these, where my
pulse is near-to-death-inducing-freedom-from-this-world

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