From an air-pressed square of neat concrete
I shimmy up a chimney, wriggle and bleed
– The time is now, the release –
and coal streaks my brow
when I crown.
I swoop toward the trees and loop lazily
Through broken fingers. Mine smudge and fade.
They cannot clutch a briefcase –
I am not human. I pause
and stare at the sun. my eyes dim
‘til, blind, I circle one:
Thicken or fade
Whoosh –the thick-cheeked wind
Blows my hair into whips.
My lips start to drip.
I solidify. Not on earth, nor in the sky –
But somewhere, meltingly, between.