Fuck.
I’m falling again.
It’s funny how even after the millionth time,
my stomach still tries to escape
through my mouth.
I’m unattached and
the wind cradles me, rocking me
in her arms.
For once it is just my veins and my skin
and my stem:
just me.
When the ride is over and
her hands slide me onto the ground,
I am destined to become
dirt.
Autumn
Published
Silenticel 