she's an old tree,
her trunk wide,
branches high,
immovable against
me. i frown and
push harder,
to no avail.
she's strong.
deeply rooted. i pause a moment,
then gust,
following her
contours down
and tickle her foot. i rise,
dispersing across
her rough skin,
expanding to mingle
among her branches. rustling leaves,
exploiting weakness,
snapping twigs.
i brush against
sudden smoothness. momentum carries me past
but i swirl,
spinning in delay,
take a moment
and realize some of
her magic.
her charm. i smile as i flow on.
part of her magic,
carved in her trunk,
embedded in my mind,
an asymmetric heart.
two names. she is the keeper of
fond memories,
of old love.
i sigh,
wondering if i will ever
leave such a mark
on this world. ghost
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