The Climbing

I thought I could find solace in the unfamiliar contours of skylines that never burned out, that I could disappear into a cityscape, an empty moon betrayed by the sun. But night still blooms around cities, pressing patient palms against filmy talismans of artificial light; each glow a thin guardian against darkness, making it feel less dense even as it makes time less meaningful... I can't help but want to climb the sky again; to be filled full, even if I know I will be wounded and that the whole world will see me shrivel, clinging to every last timid ray of affection for as long as my face can hold it.