On this ride

This is the smell of mud and sharp air,

the intensity and clarity of knowing you’re alive,

feet thumping madness of being wholly in your skin,

this skin, whatever colour you are,

this shape, whatever form you are,

where are the times we wore crazy grins

up for a wild ride,

we are the troopers in the storms

the sound of a hell fucking yes,

the sound of the sky crackling with thunder

and the earth shuddering with the roars

tearing from our throats,

we have the wild singing in our blood,

the notes dancing onto a page 

cannot contain the love that expresses itself 

in the feeling of being soaked in rain,

that feeling of being near something you cannot name,

that feeling of falling into an abyss,

that feeling of soaring

and that feeling of being on this ride.

~*~

Sand

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