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.
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