I have wings beneath
these bony shoulder blades
made of silvery spider thread
the faintest hint of green
design
I have stars in my belly
I have suns for eyes
The wind is my hair
My touch leaves dew drops that evaporate
immediately on your face
sending slight sensations through
your limbs-- misty summer's night
My feet are easily tickled
by the grass, flower petals, tree tops
My voice is the rustle of
the leaves rubbing against each other
Wouldn't it be nice?
If we could shed these
damaged bodies?
