Squinting (day 1195)

I lifted my eyes and squinted at the distance
Speculating on a mirage, intending to drift.

[Lost words have a tendency to echo
When moments find thee alone, lonely.]

I kick the dust. I follow an eagle trace a long line
About my imagination and wave at it motionless.

This is my breakout. This is my manhood.
I am the angel that washed out to Washington.

[I remember there was an arm that touched.
I looked and a few moments passed before I came to.]

Just like my whirlwind that had brought me to here
I sheltered the locals as I spread my arms and screamed like hell.

To arrows and sparks and roaring engines
Lifting an essence, an indescribable valor.

To sky that lifts my dream and spins my fear,
Pushing endless possibility into the cuff of my presence.

Into a distance that dances with a wavering expression,
Upon a transformation defined by these.

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