The Wanderer

Her wandering eyes knew

what most of us don’t get to see

even having no eyelids

or magnifying glasses up our nose

The odds of having such little earthly desire of the mundane

but owning a big chunk of Earth in her chest

are basically zero

for the ones that rooted in a desert

and closed their rooftop just a little bit over their heads.

Her wandering feet owned

a bite of a place

and bites of some others

even when they knew she would be an alien

or at least a pretty-close- to -normal alien

for the ones that claimed the pieces of places she was standing on

but they did not care.

“This wanderer feels like a nice one”

Her wandering hands leave a trace

of a sound that all of them like

but just some understand

Especially one

This other alien

That truly seemed to get what she said

Or at least tried to speak the same words

Or at least tried to listen in the same wavelength

Or at least knew she needs to spit out words

and not really mind the outcome

And not really mind much things at all

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