Dust  

I’m staring very intently
At the dust that’s in my room,
It’s like a million astronauts
Floating around the moon.

The Sun lights up a pattern
In the middle of the air
And that’s where I can see the dust
Though it must be everywhere.

There’s something magic yet peaceful
About watching it float around
And as  I do it begins to feel
Like I’m floating above the ground.

Maybe I am made of dust,
Maybe the dust is me,
Maybe I am everywhere
But my body is what I see. 

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