I used to love hearing her scream Oh God. Then it started to sound like blasphemy birthed in-between her fishnet devotion and my dashed expectations.

Suspended like words behind pinched lips and tongue flicks…because I remembered what happened the last time we pledged to gulp down the high sky.

And if I could have pickled time we might have lived forever on that hill. But now we try to trade pain for stars. I mean…who hasn’t dreamed of stringing up a lifetime of climaxes?! Only to realize even those ladders never really reached heaven. But stopped just short. Enough to fold back into our pillow talk…and end in sweat and babel…that soon dried over our dreams of even higher mountain tops. Day break would splash it’s morning air in face to find us still curled around our weapons…and doves taunting us with symbols of what we could not quite attain.

AND then it hit me…that it wasn’t only in fox holes where soldiers whisper sweet nothings to an empty sky. And it isn’t only when we are cresting the blue lines of infinity that we shout out why!
I remember once…

She looked at me and said…it’s been forever since you told me you love me.

Right then I had a vision of what it was to die and felt fall set in. And no words could hope against what history had already written.

What were we still really reaching for?
What season had we ever lived that promised us forever?

True freedom.

Rising and falling…rising and falling…like the lightning of our breath. Like the madness in our chest. See it there? Humanities wish shooting down to earth again?

Begging for hope…a prayer, someone to catch us, and fling us again like a Molotov cocktail into a black sky…

Just in case, this time, we ever did learn how to fly.

(This is what I read at a recent open mic.)