You can't look away-- as if that was the only rule, that one you had to follow. Even though to look means falling, you open your eyes to see. Drawn further with each vision, you fly apart by increments, just that resigned collapse near the edge of exasperation always one more step away. I would wrap you in your wings, that flicker always lighting every gaze. I would hold you here.
There is this trick and truth of it, that threat half the glamor of so sharp a smile. No birds on the line and none in the sky, from fire blue to the languor of wet cement. No song riding the wild and tactless wind. So much art to all the nothing of it, just a few strings and some splashy patches of cloth. It is all in the way you wear it, crime or crown.
It is only the weight of how I want it so, you as close as breathing, as warm as sleep. It is only the work lacked, the oceans never crossed. That sun rise always the same, another claim or tether upon some whim of enduring appetite. As if this little bit of watching would find its way back to my hands. One rule leaned towards, reaching away. That bitter pill swallowed in stride.
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