"still I recoil like mace in all the little moments I pushed you away that I can't erase..."
We were at
sixty-six thousand miles above sea level and you told me,
holding my two mangled, aching hands,
looking down at
four sets of knuckles so off-life white they blended in
to tray tables,
to sterile shades pulled down over fairy-tale skies...
that you wished we could just
reach warp speed and stay this way
forever...
And I held my breath until I needed the
oxygen mask more than just in my
panic,
more than these Hitchcockian fears of falling...
but to steady my falling for you,
to regulate my jagged, grasping infatuation and
delusions of
grandeur with you.
I pulled the parachute and could only laugh when
left with gravity instead.
When I wake up now,
sweating,
reaching,
heaving towards you,
pulling towards my left chest,
settling for next best...
I'd give anything to feel that fall
again.
Even if I fall this far.
I admit, any time I just really want to write something, but don't have an idea/words in mind, I have certain situations/eras in my life I can just pull up and run with. So yeah... this is old, irrelevant news, but new words :)
(won for three, wee hoe)