Airplane Now

forgetting which direction earth and sky might be
so slowly drowning in the blue
higher and higher your search for the sun
so sweet and so cold
no one ever giving you more
than the moth
the attraction to light and the powder on wings
so slowly repeating the loop inside
so slowly covering your wounds

forgetting where the high and where the deep might be
so slowly intoxicated by the eye
higher and higher your search for the green house
plums have to be ripen by now
no one giving you more
than the moth
the power to live under piles of cloth
so sluggishly tearing the new world inside
so sluggishly widening your arm

forgetting where the help and wrath might be
so softly wasted by the light
higher and higher your search for the wall
I’ve eaten them all
no one giving me more
than the moth
the attraction to light and the burns on the wings
so languidly repeating the loop inside
so languidly finding the mud

Anunțuri