I am calm.
Gliding on paper wings,
A light rain, no hail,
No wind.
I am a city,
Sky-scrapers, metal grey, smooth –
Clean, unflinching
In the face of war.
I am a forest,
Growing slowly – gradually
Over the years,
Each flower fills my soul,
But it’s too subtle to notice them
Appear.
I am art.
My body is perfectly curved,
My limbs write a story
In the fading light,
And I am not in love
With anyone
But I am in love with
The world
And its ideas
And the face of
God.
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