Week 46

Lay yourself on me
Like a shield.
I look up at you
And you are a kite,
Beautiful
Blowing
Dancing in the air.
I hold on tightly
But not too much,
I need to let you be yourself
Magic happens when I do.

I haven't flown a kite in years
Not since I was a kid,
When strings broke easier
And days weren't as windy.
I remember feeling free.

Memory is a strong scent
That is easily  cast aside
And then a whiff of it
Enters,
Tickles the side of your cheek
And suddenly you are immersed
In in the middle of a swirling
Tornado
Of smiles and tears
And blank stares.

I remember you.
I forget you,
But not for long
The wind always picks up
The next day
And I'll have a kite ready,
Not today
But then I will.