when windows are open

when we spin the beginnings of ends
around our fingers tight like yarn
we cut circulation of bad to good
turn the words from should to could
and all the hummingbirds frozen in flight
backwards flutter fall from sight
rhinestone eyes so bright in mind
shimmer and fade seem so unkind
but turn and spin and die we must
to live and breathe and escape the rust
and oil ourselves in tears of clouds
check our parts and shed cold shrouds
smile enjoy this strange second chance
every day a seventh grade dance
awkward nervous filled with promise
the days of spring are fast upon us

and i lust for it’s sweet scented touch