Wind

My most desired trait

Is to be like the wind; to be like you.

I want to be able to learn to let go

When I need to. Not to cling like splatters of

Mud to an exposed leg.

To be free, to be formless.

To shift through air swiftly like you do.

I know now why they call you the wind,

Why they call you a hurricane.

You float around and brush past my skin

And just like that you also leave.

My body is still covered in goosebumps.

I made myself vulnerable to your impressions.

You left a mark on me.

I am caught up in your storm

While you’re nowhere to be seen.