Remember the Wind . . .

 . . . And the sand

Remember how the wind used to blow, you were standing on the highest peak.
Remember how the wind blew your lips dry after his kiss.
It made you lean in for another one.
Remember how the wind swept your cheeks cool?
And how they were still lit like a furnace because you'd never blushed so hard in your life.

Remember how your boots would kick the sand.
How you left with black boots and arrived somewhere else with chestnut kicks, how you;d wipe the sand off on your black-jean-clad carves.
How you'd wipe off your attitude off anyone who need to wipe the smug silly look off their face.
Remember the tense smiles.
Remember the field weeds.
Remember the bonfire, the tapping of your feet, the sunset,the boil over.
Remember the poker face, the sucker punch, the silence, the chaos.
Remember the march, the dim lights, the height above.
Remember the, "Can I bum a smoke?", "That's twelve bucks", "Turn up the music!".

The city lights, the suspense, the warmth, the stumbled walk, the farewell down the stair case, the odd balls, the way you didn't really know what being 'a girl' was because you refused to be treated like a pussy, the sweet wine, the flash, the jumping/leaping, the angst being resolved, the power you gave and let yourself have, the hunger , the will . . .

Remember the Wind?

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