Poetry: Ode to Icarus

No breath escapes, no sound is heard.
When gravity is lost, dreams
Come crashing into our reality
And cannot be told apart.
There are no smells, the light comes from within –
Its subtle glow masking the bareness of the walls.

Our hearts beat to warm us both.
I feel my fingers passing over her
As though my hand were guided
And detached.
She, the dream,
Is real in this vacuum,
Only the mind, that betraying miscreant,
Fights the god who has himself revealed.

And now the battle wages
Between the eternally anchored,
And the pump which dares to fly
In the weightlessness of dream.
You cannot reconcile – you mangy beast of logic –
This moment when time’s true emptiness is revealed
And the shackles you have forever worn.

Release me and let me float,
And let my one become a part of me.
Release me to that dream,
That I will labor to make real,
If even death is the succor to my failing.

Poetry: Malinalco
Poetry: Rain

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