77. arms

77.
arms

I imagine what it's like to be held
someone's arms
holding me up
folding me in
until I am weightless
in a downy nest
of feathers and bits of hair
and the sadnesses I exhale
float up like smoke
and the sadnesses on my skin
evaporate in wisps of cloudy air
and the sadnesses in my heart
rise up out of my chest
and I am finally ready 
to lift my arms
to hug someone back. 

Then I realize 
I'm alone
and there will be 
no one's arms
holding nothing up
folding no one in
and the sadnesses come
skulking back
holding only their shame
that they even exist.