I C A R U S

 

Speak to me

of the son of Daedalus

who tasted upon his lips

her freedom

and upon his eyelids

her warmth

Speak to me

of his wings that gave in

plunged him, watched his being

shatter as it struck sea

his delirious soul, drunk on innocence

on sin

Speak to me

of my pristine self

as my back meets the harness

and my new wings

as I stand on the edge,

as the Sun beckons

freedom