Do you remember when we were songs?
We twirled in lawns and streets
arms outspread
believing
one day
we would find rhythm in another's face.
I had feet once
glorious feet.
I traded them for wounds
and stories. I was writing
hymns
the day I asked your name
and singing.
You want
spinning like a pinwheel.
You live for wind.
Unsteady I
will learn your dance.
Do not expect me
to forget my psalms.
www.colinpoet.com
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