• I reach down towards the moon,
    grasping at the stars feigning near.
    Can I trust you to save me, Sky?
    Wind tries to catch me,
    pulling my hair in desperate heroics,
    but she cannot find the strength.
    Superheroes don't rescue the angels
    Flying unintentionally towards the earth
    in my world.
    Screams are ripped from my tongue,
    stollen by the jealous silence of the night,
    and used as the sing-song voice of Air
    as it swims past my ears,
    mocking my connection with gravity.
    Are these my final moments?
    Begging a star to take my hand,
    while hoping for Wind to lift me away?
    Listening to Air sing past my body?
    At least the view is one of beauty.
    One of flying stars and blurry buildings.
    Of singing Air, and desperate wind.
    Of silky hair at the tips of my cheeks,
    and the empty,
    bottomless feeling of falling.
    And, at that final moment,
    Wind does catch me.
    Within her light grip,
    I am weightless.
    I fall asleep to the lullaby of Air,
    wishing on a million falling stars,
    and watching my feet walk on the sky.