westward//drafting/moves

to uproot where temporary stability landed and where we fled from green waters and heavy floridian air
old ghosts in party dresses and sad balloons and refusal to let us grow
where we left with empty hands and with each passing hundred miles our skin grew tighter, the air thinned,
and yet our palms grew sweaty and we felt a home coming we'd never known before
to warm golden nights in place of growing glowing dawns where we lay the sun to rest
instead of scaring off our ghosts in the morning