Beyond this wall of grey, what if there is another
sky, in which a lone bird rises and the light, the
enduring light, refuses to cast its shadow. You erase
the bird, you deny the light, you mock the sky. But
can you feel the wings breaking through your skin?
That pain is relief, is proof of life. See the blood pooling
around your feet, look again, look up, whatever held
you to this ground has left your arms a long time ago.
The sentence has shrunk into a word at the tip of your
tongue. Say it, drain the sorrow from your bones. Fly.