I lean in gently as the wind takes my hand Following the path of it's trajectory as it lifts my reason, If not my body. It whips me like salted string And pulls my heartstrings like a physical pain. It's flavor is foreign, Like sand and hot dust. I am untramelled and fly like a leaf. And then left. With both feet on the ground. And the lack of whisper in my ear.Birth sign: Aries
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