Kites fly to hug the ground,

Their destiny written on the sands,

With hope and valor.

They lick the shores, hug them passionately.

Love soars to the skies,

When kites plummet to the earth.

Their suspiration, sways them down from the highs.

They hug every spec of dirt on their way,

Beckon the Earth to stretch it's hands,

To welcome them.

To love them.

When they're cut from their beloved strings.

"No strings attached", they soar down,

Caressing the ground.

Are they dubious?

Are they guileless?

Never can we know..

We, the mere.

We, the serrated edges.