“Mirth”

There is nothing more animate than the wind.

We can’t see it,

though it is there.

Dancing, yet soundless.

Shouting in a language no one is worthy enough to hear.

And there is nothing better than the raw palpability of being broken open,

and feeling the wind tousling your pages.

Its a wondrous thing,

like the taste of someone elses laughter in your mouth.

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