Her selcouth hands tremble
Her eyes overreaching she thinks,
Of fresh sidewalk daydreams
They don't run
They linger
Whisper
They make her shiver
Her mind swims at her feet

Despite the birds
The sky feels empty
What she’s looking for
She can't seem to find
Her fingers don't reach or
Clouds just block her way
She murmurs a sempiternal rhyme

Preemptive movements
Of her shoulders
Cluster as she falls
Her mind seemingly unaware
The acute sense of discontent spreads
Thick
Through her blood
But big words still make her feel small
And her hair still feels too short

Yet she thinks that she is not alone
Alone
Would be incomprehensible
And indistinguishably her own
To hold and to cherish
As lemonade pours like blood from a cut
She is soothed
By the never ending drop she knows she will become
One
Day
Hopefully soon
Hopefully not

Her fingers lace a worry
She thinks not of words but of emotions
Circling her brain
Pulsing through her veins
She stands