Thinking

Here I sit, my hair lightly gusted around by the wind. My eyes are on the sky above, peering through the sun roof and my mind isn't on you or anything in particular. It's everywhere. Parts of me and my sanity are in various cities, in various arms, maybe even holding your hand.

I don't know what I'm doing but I wonder who wants to know what I'm doing, whats on the mind of the girl whos heart belongs in a forrest, laying on a blanket, drinking an iced tea and scribbling down another poem about the smell of the moss at the side of the river. She's probably thinking about you and how you fascinate her like a book new from the book store. The pages are crisp and she can hear the spine crackle as she opens up to the first chapter and her mind is overcome by this amazing new experience. She's entering her new engulfment completely blind and it's terrifying her. Its also got her completely exhilerated. Or that's not on her mind and she wants to dance in the rain and figure out where on the globe would show her the time of her life. 

Where does she belong and who is to accompany her on the whirlwind? 

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