I keep hearing the lyrics 'I want wind' I am sitting on the deck, smoke curling from my fingers. The luscious mountaintops loom over the crashing of the waves. These lyrics leave me mummified. Rigid. I don't want to hear 'I want wind' I want wind. I want to feel the passage. I want to become movement. This feeling is locked into a cycle — a cycle of legibility, of meaning.