air-jun-14-2017

it’s been, always, there
an aspiration to fly, above
Earth’s curve
till azure, turns inky, till
am able to palm the spheroid, till
this ache, fear, isolation are but
remote notions of those
down there
down there
hell we’ve fashioned after
clawing at one another’s eyes
being better at being better than
the other, the other we’ve
become

photo and poem © DC Lessoway