Apr 08

Vultures and Chemtrails

Clocks tick and there is a constant 
in my head.
I run away to forget. 
I look at the vultures and chemtrails 
up above,
and imagine they go on forever. 
I imagine we go on forever. 

You dance lightly, 
your toes barely touching the ground. 
Your fingers are long and graceful,
reaching out to an invisible world I long to visit. 

I see almond eyes everywhere I go,
I see expensive bags encased in cotton covers. 
Somewhere in lines of scrambled code,
I write of you as a child. 
I write of your brothers and sisters, 
of your mother, father, uncle. 
I try to believe I can keep you alive in my words. 

Can humans be reborn through stories?
Can humans live inside of stories? 

I fear the answers to these questions,
so instead
I look at the vultures and chemtrails
up above, 
at their spread wings
and the lines of white that follow. 

My eyes are wide open
in a world that believes it goes unnoticed. 

My eyes are wide open,
and I won’t run away to forget. 
You will live on. 
You already do,
with every breath we take.