I hear told—
seeks its way over the disquieted
as winged fowl in free-flight
without boundaries,
without unease,
without loss
achingly, my body—
the place where Soul resides—
in my chest, lungs,
stomach, shoulders, back,
hurting as this personal Soul
wanders hauntingly about
wherever it endeavors
Soul’s lightness baring within and upon
the spirit of our willfulness—
our physicality
our dignity
entwining, wherever Souls go.
Kat
12 November 2016
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