As Children We Run Through Castles
First Wrizzit post. I live a quiet existence and enjoy writing about life slowing down but quickening towards the end.
As Children We Run Through Castles
You vessel a dune of sand,
it threads through your webbing
You clench a gnawing fist around the last grain
its spent sisters wait on the hourglass floor
Wind barrels harder during your final season
you push against it on the shore
You exhaust,
and notice how good air feels
rushing over an empty palm
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