If I could fly,
I'd fly alongside the kisses I blew most nights to my mother from my half empty bunk bed in Mexico to Michigan when I was eight.
If I could fly,
I'd fly along the vibration of the song I dedicated to my crush, perhaps acquiring the smoothness of the wave, to have a clue as to what I would say when I arrived.
If I could fly,
I'd fly to the purgatory where his soul wanders, look for and take back the naive girl that tagged along, nearly collapsing at the thought of not being with him entirely. I have not yet forgotten her, her name is: Mind.
If I could fly,
I'd fly to the forever shut on me gates of heaven, where my soul wanders. It awaits the gates to open, so it can see you once more, my heart, and I'd patiently wait beside it.
-hanna guzman (2021)
