rough
hands
reach through
tangle me
wash my hair with a
penny
face the sun
pick me up
for luck
I am windblown
soft, compliant
turn stones over and into
beautiful eyes
that
stare goodbyes
I might crash beneath
you
stop looking down
this metallic in
me
flies under the sea
with the wind so
still
this stubborn pale
swims hell-bent for
a copper cure
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