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.