terminal velocity

a foolish,
wingless creature,

with eyes closed to the world
of ants below, mouths agape
to the spectacle above

in free fall through
eleven flights of stairs,
lucid in a feat of dreams.

effortlessly the weight
of the wisdom, of the fear,
fled as i swallowed air and

eloped with the wind who
ran through my hair, planting
envy in the birds who

were born into a nest of
cloud and twigs.


Published by

c.v. grace

here lies my veins, tangled and suffocating.

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