earthfeathers

"maybe follow me,"
she whispered,
her wings sparkling from the light pouring through the branches

"follow me,"
she told me,
as we spoke about galaxies on her bed

her phone keeps beeping, but she doesn't want to be without me
the messages keep getting rejected from being unopened,
moving from mobile to mobile like bouncing checks

the silence here is so heavy it feels like a void,
a vacuum i can immerse myself in,
i can't help feeling, however, as if there's others existing here too

her wings smell like fresh, sweet earth
she knows she could take me far away from here
but i don't want to be anywhere else

she will not flutter off - - - -


.
.
.

(we are still here)

my mind seems perpetually nomadic though; i wish i could stop thinking about that bearded man with the paper cup, reaching up to the sky, asking God for change...
or maybe just hoping he will disappear

the threads around my wrist will not take me up,
but maybe if i went with her,


2,504 miles
(she found it on the map)


i still believe her

i still feel safe