Living in the wild air

Things grow wildly

skies and wandering trails of morning light, a tree stands tall in the middle of the wandering.

I am faithfully walking, feet aching, flowers blooming, dark clouds looming.

Oh how I want to know the sun upon my hurts, the love that I cannot feel from the wounds that will not heal.

I know some deeper grasp of breathless while living in the wild air. I want to lightly sigh as love abandons a lovers kiss, a woman of no measure, who lives confined in a wild beating heart.

I am on my knees in gratitude for such a long life. A long life that was cursed from the beginning, feebly and shallow breathing the city smog, smothered in longing, gasping for hope.

Today I see that things grow wildly, as I am faithfully walking in daily abandon of living as I do now in the wild air.

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