Losing my bearings
along the way
I found you floating
in a filament sky—
its tendrils and the
clouds breathing life
into making stars—
Not even a mouse
could be quieter.
And you, out there
seemingly content,
while my struggles
with strands
in the atmosphere—
a daily occurrence—
I was unsuited, you see.
Defined by wild wisteria &
shouted misgivings—
So loud, my head loosened.
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