You cannot catch the wind,
they said, but I feel it
tickling my fingers, tugging
at the loose ends of my copper hair
as I stand in the tendrils of a tornado.
You will be burned by the fire
they said, yet I let it crawl
up my thin arms, warming my skin
and coloring my cheeks with crackling air.
You will drown in the water,
they told me. Still I float
towards the sandy bottom,
enjoying the roar in my ears and allowing
the pressure to engulf and hug me.
You will be crushed by the earth,
they raged, but I welcome the
cool bits of earth upon my skin,
the warm darkness, and the comforting blanket.
You will die, they said,
but I merely close my eyes and sleep.
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