As if it knows me—
Lost to moments of late summer’s beauty,
I feel it and it feels so right.
A soul, an aura, a heart, a pulse,
so late, so late, so late.
Flames of wind sear my back;
behind, above, ahead—
Sun blinds, likens me to energy,
molten, scorching, crisp.
The slightest spray of cooling surf drives me to the edge.
Fly to fall, fall to fly
Let the tides run through me,
come like torrents of gushing rain.
I am just beneath the surface of a pool of sky.
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