thinking of the air

Thinking of the air I'm breathing that goes in and out like the tide,
and all the tiny atoms in the air that are sucked into my lungs and pushed back out,
knocking against each other like bumper cars, and each one probably has its own world with its own streets and sunsets,
warm lit bungalows where house cats purr on plush sofas, dads stretching out their legs after a day's work,
clinking the ice in their glasses of water.

This is wonderful

loved this one.

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