Fly At Your Window

Uncategorized

Rattling hisses against the clear barrier.
The outside can be so close.
How invisible it must be to your processing.
Hours of torturous attempts
to break through with none
of the strength to do so.
I cup the tireless quarter of an inch
in my hand and walk down the stairs to 
release it.
Sitting in my hand, this body makes one more attempt.
Wind carries you to an uncertain location
away from the glass.

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