turns

this is as water to me, she bears herself on words, within this space i am set free, a too long caged bird, come tired unto the sky alone, the cirrus songs we call our home, in turns, earth weighs or liberates, a touch can cut, or elevate, these vague, and wayward hosts in haste, reach far beyond the feted waste, held close to heart, at glowing skin, my other part, the beating din, some time away from that which was, for healing is as healing does...