The way water falls from leaves
After a heavy rain.
Weighed down with
The pressure of atmosphere
We drop
All that we have
Just to let ourselves go.
Anticipation builds
As I make mountains out of molehills,
Dropping myself from far greater heights
Than what could have been lower.

But this is the same way all
Lovers-in-training feel
When they are too close to the Sun
To open their eyes fully,
Like birds without wings
And underdeveloped feathers.
How can I
Take flight
When what’s weighing me down
Is the thought of you?
People say that abstracts are intangible
But I can measure and quantify
The impressions you leave on me.


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