• Vol. 05
  • Chapter 06


I can’t talk about how to stand and stare
from such a height that stomach flies up
between lungs in shock and tongue halts
in its tracks and fear is 350 degrees of air;
there’s nothing to hold onto while thinking
in overwhelming gasps that falling is death.

And yet the evidence of human existence in
a waking world when dawn lights rooftops
creating skyline, not war-torn, myriad forms
mingling before breakfast side-by-side, tall
and gangly looking down at smaller family
checking to see if all is well in their world.