The breaking



I am outgrowing her. Fast and furious. Trying to slow down. She is in the distance.

I grew tired of holding her up to the light. My arms gave way. She is tumbling down to earth. My heart blown open again.

I imagine her lying there bruised and bloodied. Everything in me begs to go to her. Pick her up from the floor of the earth and stroke her scalp.

But descent to earth means forfeiture of flight. The slow and bitter atrophy of full grown wings.

I risk capture. Engulfed by the trickery of the ordinary. The veil of comfort. The curse of the unfulfilled.

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