You laugh at me, as you stand tall, leaning into the wind. Your feet are still on the ground somehow, but your eyes are level with the sky as you lean into the horizon.

The wind cuts away at your feet, and your arms grow slowly into the depths of the sky, the sun, the curving earth. Suddenly, it doesn't matter if your feet are merged with the sky rather than with the ground. Suddenly, we both know that that is where they have always been.