Concentrate, relax, remember to breathe.
If I do these things, sometimes I
can force myself to imagine the feelings of wings.
The flex and pull of muscles,
a gentle weight,
the color of light filtered through feathers;
they become part of me.
What a glorious thing it would be,
don’t you think?
I would love to have wings. I'd adore it.
I like writing poetry. Not all of it is going to be a historical epic or an ode to something. These are like little glimpses of the subway in my mind; my train of thought isn't always artsy or symbolic or deep or meaningful, but I like to think that art takes ordinary things and makes people see a sort of beauty in them. So, look around- I've been doing this for a while. Enjoy ♥
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