solitude, the wind, and I

The wind lapped on my little beads of sweat.

It offered me tiny dried flowers gathered from hidden branches and eaves, embracing me in a gentle whirl.

And as my hair loosely hung from my crown, I felt the lovely chill as it caressed both my thin and thick strands in a mesmerizing dance.

It raised the hem of my spirit, and glided in between the crevices of my consciousness.

Gracefully, it made love to me, and so I did with the beautiful face of solitude in front of me.

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