wind

I stand alone

the wind brushes my skin

like a mother, a brother,

a sister, a lover

that rush of breath imparts

an indeterminate affection

which I do so strive to return

by dancing, moving like the air

an intimate dual choreography

but someone walks nearby

loud in their dullness, all their mundane noise

and I go still

I tell myself this is because I wish to share this moment

with the wind alone

and not

that I fear their scrutiny

unknown