I lay here covered in the faintness of purple flannel.
Slowly I take in the breath of winter coming through my window.
I let it fill my lungs, and my body.
Listening to it crackle through the trees,
As if it were laughing at us.
Then pushing the wind chimes outside,
Lulling me to close my eyes,
And pause to think of you.
It pacifies me for a moment,
As I am alone with these thoughts,
Yet, this body is still dancing, and burning scarlet.
I somehow became social,
A bird among other birds.
Yet, I am without wings, or feathers.
Can we only collect these memories in each others absence?
Will we never tell one another our secrets at bedtime?
Or press our bodies so tightly together,
That we become like a Band-Aid on a wound.