All day I walk among people,
their bodies smell musty tied
up the neck, or I climb trees, rough
against my limbs, bite an apple,
tongue through toothy smile.
I find nothing else till my dress
falls from me.
I wait to be loved between floating
cotton and the branch I cling to.
The breeze grows, it grazes
fingers and toes— pink birds
derail, grasp seed-laden air.
I fly fuzzing
apricot hair with giggle fits.