While you flutter in the wind
I enjoy the smell of your hair
blowing my way
Also I'd like to be the clothspin
keeping you from being carried away,
far from me, from 'us,
to never return.
Sometimes I picture us as birds,
ínvolved in a mating ritual,
mockingly circling
and flying off swiftly,
knowing to be chased.
Playing in ever shrinking circles
occassionaly slightly bigger ones.
To eventually
land simultanously
in the same open nest,
choosing
to be together.
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