felo-de-se

looking down, the cars and

people are just a silent film

everything below is moving and motionless

kind of like a funeral luncheon

when people socialize and pick at deli sandwiches

with cemetery dirt still under their fingernails

up there, all you can hear is the wind

whispering that it won't let you fall

and you can taste the smog but

this time you don't mind as much because

you're going to create more of it

when all the ambulances rush to your body

(or lack thereof) smeared on the pavement

and all the children wonder what you are

as their parents shield their eyes

they'll never forget you, the little ones

your feet have never felt more planted

and your heart has never been so still

as you spread your arms like an angel

wings nailed against the sky

and your chest falls forward

your eyes fall shut

and all you can hear is the wind

and the lines of your favorite song

someone turns the century and all the people scream

but the song in your mind only grows

and the peace you feel is suffocating

and you've never felt more alive

open your eyes