I want to be free

Cold, wind, swamp, mildew, rustling leaves,

the sound of dogs barking from a distant.

Walking on murram, the fresh air cruising

through my nostrils like water in a jacuzzi.

My hair rises as I feel a cold breeze

brushing over my skin. The air is cold and moist

and makes slightly shiver... but I like it.

I like being out and about, away from home,

outside of closed doors, closed doors within four walls

where the air hangs still.

I like being out there even at night...

especially at night, where everything seems mystical,

like you can't make out properly what you see

but you can just fill it out with your mind.

And the sky... how brightly the sky shines

with little shimmers from the pretty little stars,

accompanied by the ethereal moon

that comes and goes in different shapes. So wonderful.

We hold hands, under the rusty overhang

ironsheet of the small corner shop.

We stare at each other, slightly confused and awkward,

not knowing what to do at the moment.

But we are there, catching the breeze,

enjoying the quiet and the lack of human interactions,

breathing, glaring, admiring... the rich sky.