On Light Islands And Dark Seas

What are you thinking?

You take
no pleasure
in this knowledge of
Home sweet Home,
of owning and beginning
and
flying high and tall and proud
through these dark
clouds.
Your very own
castles in the sky,
white and rolling in this
robin-blue ocean
of wind and lost sounds.
I could stay here
forever
suspended, no
noise but
shadows
clapping on my ears.
13,000 feet
in the air
and still, it’s
like you were
born
to be here,
floating on your palace
of steel and stone and
lonely eyes
gazing timidly into
a frightful soul.
I wish you had told me.
I wish I could share
this with you, beside me,
locked in and sleepy-headed,
ice clacking in your mouth.

Looking through
scratched plastic,
seeing shadowed,
bubbly shapes
break
through soft, misty shores,
I’m not lonely.
I want to preserve
it, store it with
a click and a flash
in my mind.
I want you to
paint it, with
pasteled colors
and underrated strokes,
blending this world into
Perfection.
I want to know
what it’s like to remember
a thought
exactly the way
it began, the way it was.
How faulty my wiring is.

I want to be
suspended
in air like those little puffs of
water and forgotten words.
I want to know
how it feels
to be colored by
sun and starlight.
This creates
new horizons for you,
giving you
see-through
stepping stones to
another continent,
another life of
belief and mourning.
I want to watch it
grow and fade.
I want to keep it
the same
forever,
in light islands
and dark seas
of reflection.
I want you to love it
too, to scream
at it in misplaced
courage,
to
Understand it, in a way
that’s incomprehensible to
me.

But,
What are you thinking?