two birds locked in embrace
hurtling toward the water,
fresh from a bright and promising sky
to a rippling dark place
just for a moment
because that’s all the time we have,
a moment of bliss, a moment
of terror, of hilarity, of grief
before hurtling somewhere else
because we have just enough time
to notice the change in air,
in color, in how it feels to be close
to someone and part of something
before the next moment steals our breath
The Word Rummager 
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