he floats
on emotional currents
like a kite
bare skin
catching the airy
going ever higher
in an instant
they turn into concrete
to crush
his flimsy sense
of self
into a ball of loss
splayed across
the barren earth

he sees
the hawks drift
in lazy circles
the ravens watching
from the rooftops
the sparrows
hopping happily in puddles
but it is all
just background noise
in the midst
of barely perceived
crisis after crisis

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