re-entry

20Sep11

I took a cold walk in cold shoes. Treading

lightly on padded air, as though my steps

would fall clean through clouds. And then–

a silent drop, my fingers clawing at cold sky.

The air is thin here. Still I breathe. And

I fall. Weightless, seeing the heavens

for what they are: empty.

And my limbs beckon a thin

layer of ice. I claw harder but

it seems I do not burn brightly enough

to shake the weight.

Rigor is next. Contorted and fixed are

the world below and the body above

it grows, I fade

though i seem forward

the ground is rushing to meet me

embrace

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