On cracked concrete
you teach gravity to sleep.
Palms drum stories into stone,
legs write circles into dust.
Every freeze says listen.
Every spin says live.
For one bright breath
you are not of tomorrow—
you are flight.
You believe this gospel.
To Icarus
we take a
bow.
I can tell you now:
not all is what it seems.
I promise there is one answer,
and your dimension has sheltered none.
Get out of here! and take your betrayed heart,
of memory gliding off concrete.
The drum of your soul, estranged,
were only illusions of change.
Tomorrow will arrive the same.
Escapism only fools you twice.
How far before a fall
Catches you dead?
Outside the whirls of night,
Your fantasies are folly,
Degenerate, then just dread.
This hypnotic rhythm,
between you and I, whispers we are the same.
But timing calls otherwise,
it’s time we heard, and take off to separate
rays.
Last thing I say
before I plummet in disarray—
I hope you see me in your dreams.
