How do I say how bad I want to turn into a mist?
Afloat with sudden offload of my wanting and my wish
At dawn through dewy meadows not a single blade is bent
Beneath the lamplight, hovering, no more than autumn’s scent
To feel and be felt
Meander and skirt
Not missing or missed
Can’t hurt or be hurt
With nothing to gain
And nothing to steal
Don’t make me say the way I feel
To show me it can’t be made real
That my two feet can’t leave the ground
Is not some great reveal