the sky was there - distorted
at the edges
but there
clear crystal blue
his wings burned
his mind locked
he battled the Plexiglas sky
over and again
his head bumped
hoping
for an improbable escape
~~~
I was afraid
his death
would stain my hands
like black pitch
I saw his obsession
lying to his wings
each invisible beat
bringing him closer
his truth needed to be told
the sky needed to lie
it was up to me
to eclipse the sun
transform
his reality
to a phosphorescent bullet
shooting out into a summer day
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