Opposite of Infinite

- 8 -

8 - Falling

from then on I was falling,

having climbed up so far that

thick, white blankets of cloud

obscured the ground below

like a woolen blindfold

pulled over my eyes.

hair whipping up behind me as I tumbled,

tangling like unhooked ropes

grappling for a hold in the sky

but only shooting through

the opaque form of water vapour.

you, being the sun,

were somewhere so far up that

blue had turned to black.

where stars still shone.

burning into my eyelids

much like the wind.

so bright that it punctured inverse stars through my vision

like bullets tearing into flesh.

ripping through clouds, turning them inside out

and observing their gutless bellies

as I plummeted through.

causing them to catch their breath

and feeling the warm embrace

of water droplets

as I passed.

I was weightless

for those few moments,

so caught up in the art of falling

that I could not see your rays of warning,

bright and beaming

as they stretched out like transparent arms

attempting to stop me from

hitting the ground.

but gravity had always been there.

not quite defying it as I had previously believed,

enthralled by the temporary wings embroided onto my back

by the thread of those colourful butterflies that belonged to both you and me at the same time.

those wings now so elated that they had flown off without me.

flittering and fluttering.

just as they had before

but this time too far out of reach.

if you could have seen me,

I would seem to be a fallen star.

or perhaps an angel rejected from her resting place,

in just the right position for you,

the sun,

to appear as my halo in the sky.