She is an airhead with enough buoyancy for the both of us
I've got the string tied round my finger so I don't forget it
As she lazily drifts on haphazard breezes, I try to shoot them
Teeter-totter talking about weather, sports, and partisan politics
Because when gusts come that nylon noose keeps me above ground
But only if I spit enough hot air to keep her wispy attention
Else I sprint the risk of her pine cone thicket absence
And I left my shoes with the last one
What I mean is, you are a safety net that I had no intention of casting
A Saturday morning cartoon that makes toast out of my tragedies
Buttered in the relief of freedom from prolonged desperation
I tie a second knot to be sure