Eastern Winds

I love the wind.

It whispers against my cheek and tickles my nape.
Where my hair once was.


Your hand grasped mine and I wondered.

If this is real.
If this is forever.

Or was it just a long forgotten battle of mine that was doomed to end from the start.

I don't think you know what you're getting into.

It would be silly for me to not pray it ends right.