Lead Feather
the weight of a hearty soul
like a lead feather
this paradox assigned to me
I did not choose
each time I am deceived by my form
I appear to be a feather
but when I lift fine hairs to the breeze
they do not carry me
instead the wind laughs
making ripples of static along my spine
I know I was there once
but I am irrevocably here. Now.
weighted by this hearty soul
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