they say i tend to
stick to people like glue
and when they leave me
the stretch i pull
like a cobweb's string
begging for the warmth
candlelight fading in corridors
luminescence shrinks
in the palm of my hands
i cling to the wandering wind
as if it never dies
but i also tend to mull
over distasteful possibilities
and i cling to the feasibility
that if people truly were air,
then maybe I could keep you
