Flight

 

A gust of air blows up my coat

I can't tell if its hot or cold

I turn and let it snap and seize my labels

As I raise my arms in pushes at my shoulder pads

My wool coat feels like linen or silk , soaring behind me

Beyond me

My fingers splayed like feathers

If my feet provided no resitance would I fly?

If I were to run would I crash into the clouds?

The End

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