I like walking around with the cloudy skies.
The ambient light, the steam from my cup, and the varied skylines blur together into the fascinating shapes amidst the clouds.
And I seem so limited. And the clouds, so un.
They hover over me like they’re waiting.
To drop, to transform, to mold into my transcendental imagery I’ve concocted during the night’s restful learning session.
They know more than I, the skies.
Like when I’ll be able to step out into the world and feel like I belong. Like my heart belongs somewhere. They belong to me and I to them, their chilly kisses smear over my face. They roll around and embrace me, like a lover.