Nothing Is Impossible
Even when the window is obscured
entirely draped in white fabric
it can’t hide the outside,
not completely.
In the filtered light
I can still see shapes shift outside
and even a sliver left open
lets me feel the draught
of a breeze,
and inhale
the scent or stink
carried on it
from the outside.
Even when I bury myself
in the cool white sheets,
even then
I can sense it.
And I know
exactly
what it’s like out there.
Nothing is impossible.
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