arms reaching
out stretching
catching only
air
gushing away from tiny fingertips
the world
moves
strangely
shadows
dances like fiery fireflies
frantic
moths
sunlit morning windows
burning
in the middle of the floor
she floats
again
high and wide
sometimes brushing against cheek
like soft comfort
just in moment
almost mother's
again gone
heated and in shame
hurting... receeding
flutters
sounds
of like birds
lifting
as if plucked by invisible hands
high and away
as the winds celebrate another brief escape
~third_eye @SHaYAP©
2011 version
Source: curtains
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