(no subject)
lately i'm craving that falling feeling.
the way sweat on old train rides home hit the back of your throat like 2x4s, a gasp caught between a track and a missed place. how small and forceful bodies curled up like canons to bypass the calendar boxes and bank accounts and wanderlusted missteps flying by in the peripherals.
i’m craving that wind-swished, goodbye, what now feeling of no comfort below. if the plane goes down it’s ocean, baby, ocean and a foot in new york city with a heart in chicago with a memory in appalachia doesn’t sew up to much of a parachute.
clasping for hands that whiz by without regret, the missed chances at a new trajectory, the two-for-one and one-for-all of the primordial “no thank you.” i’m craving lately that falling feeling, a cradle of catastrophe and chaos that’s rocking the theory of gravity and the promises of soft ground. cracking on pavement and oozing out yearsgone, i’m craving that chest-full, lungs-out, head-down feeling of a fall.