The Wind Poem by Martin Byrne

It's wrapping itself around me
Licking the outer clothing and
using the threads as bows
Try to open me and I'm not there

It's pushing it's part on me
Exploring cavities and conjunctions
With touches so whispy that they
Don't exist
Though the gap and holes I rip
Left unattended for the wind
To feel me through

If it's intentional it's fashion
If it's neglect it's poverty

Which should i enjoy more?
the wind erupting through the
Knee cap, unstrapped?
Or the breeze through the elbow
Inviting and untaken.

Make my decision
And you're always wrong