Wings of Past Love

I am taking off to higher air,

the clouds resting gently under my new

found wings. Wind, an echo of convalescence,

seeps slowly into my veins.

Spasms of endorphins hold fast to my

conscience, I am finding, expressing and

losing hope.

Walking toward you seemed easy, and

I, like cooled liquid, was sipped slow,

pressed down, found late, held up,

and tested faith.

Difficulty retrieving my lost item, searching,

pockets empty, mind waning, heart draining,

until I look upon your face.

A silent conversation, passing between

dilated retinas.

A lone smile, that sent me soaring.

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