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If you expect
the open air
and find instead

your feet
fast in the dust
so that you slip

at great speeds
down a hard sky,
then love it.

on your three
left feet. Extend

your right three
tenderly, tapping
one black tip

at a time.
And the glass
is good, as is

your belief
in the unseen
edge, over which

you’ll stumble—
on the force

of your own wings
and the grace

of the sweet air
that was always there.

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