window seat

ruffles of air spread out like

bunches of soft cotton balls dangling, hanging

as if in place

some big, some small

no two are the same, like snowflakes

or personalities

 

my personality cannot understand how, across this long eternal sheet

why my eye can only reach the tip of the last

puff

where it kisses a soft orange hue above and says goodbye

 

my personality sips black coffee and watches as the earth wakes up

from its sleep,

touches the window and says, “good morning”

my personality is speechless at the sight of clouds and the brightening

of the world in an hour

 

awe I cannot explain

a picture I cannot begin to describe

I feel small

under the might wings of the creator of clouds

and the soft orange hue which complements them

i close my magazine with one hand, push the pull out table closed with the other

i touch my fingertips to the frosty glass

inhale

eyes halfway closed, full of orange 

everything different 

everything pointed towards heaven