september, night

i was asked once how i would feel if i was not special

and to the man

and moon who was also listening i

said the sky was pulled from blue eyes

i’ve seen before the sun

in heaven

in life

in death

and see hummingbirds bloom

from trees and cherry blossoms

beside them happy they are

remembering how once

i love

and still

quell like the cosmos

breathing the intricacies of fields and clouds swaying.

i am dead.

i have seen beauty.

special is a pretend word,

along with every other one.

i don’t understand your question

questions me

my heart beat

and smile is an answering.

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