Permission and Purpose

A sudden breeze brushes my cheek
Without permission.
I look out the window searching for the culprit.
Only mellow streaks of sun lean against a building.
Without purpose.

The chill of the day creeps up my legs.
The floor seems to be in the know.
The window is active in its offensive.
At me, waylaid by my inaction.

But I am a daughter of the sun
Fierce in my loving, stinging in my hate
The heat I know is scorching.
I have nothing cold in me.

As I go out to chase the sun
Go ahead, cover me
In the warmth of your arms
Where I belong.

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