across the feathers and the glass and
through the fires of your own head to
stop here, as far away from breathing
as close to falling..

i have been a thousand miles in every
direction, further
before the sun has fully pierced the day

i have tried to silence you with noise to
cover you in a blanket of notes and
his voice and i know
he is here, sometimes, too

all sewn into the edges of a cloud

how sharp i must seem now..

you are quiet, again.