more to the sky than the clouds and the blue
(the blues are always where she though the universe began and ended)

it wasn’t the vast
or the space
or the air
that rose and fell and followed women of some certain type

you know.

those women

those women who create air
ever moving places of want
passing currents
strong and singleminded.

who passed her and created air
airs
those women of airs
the promise of lingering a(he)irs.

unlike her mother.
and very unlike the blues.

(beware the undertow)

(but what is that scent. you smell so good. so warm. so familiar.)

the promise of rain, on stone?
on green?
(on women?)
that air.
that very thick air.
that slow, that lush.

that feel.
that promise of a feel.

(that never comes. or)

reminiscent of all that came slowly (reluctantly) before she was six.

and left so quickly once turned.

ice cream.
conclusions.
breath.
more.