emptiness rages above
like the roof of an unheard mouth.
she is said to harbor
all possibilities; but even
eagles are microbes
in such touchless space.
the bravest mountain
a dropped cloak.

if we spread our wings
and flew glad as ravens,
we’d drown and fall,
killed by such groundless
purity. a crossroad that melts
into a glassy chaos
of cold blue.

beyond our most desperate
reach, no substance breeds
and nothing can cling.
not even a trapeze act of hope,
or a holdfast for the wingspan
of a heart.