an air of being
an air of being

an air of being

it's a complex*

there’s a tree that bends, stretching over negative space as if by wind. there are leaves that fall, land on fellows, sweeping up near the ankle as if drawn. there is a night that is a hazy stretch of shadows with window glows as if dreaming; bursts of breezes curling my hair locs as if I am timeless.

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