And while I was reaching up,
an unsure shred of it fell,
through slanted rays, on parched lips.
It tasted like honeydew,
salted caramel popcorn
and freshly squeezed orange juice.
The texture was wispy, like
triumph and cotton candy,
which left a lingering taste;
and a deep hunger for more.
Light blue slipped through my fingers
when I tried stuffing some sky
in dusty jacket pockets
(hard work’s always in fashion).
The sky gave way to more sky,
as liquid light humbled me.
Distant voices, mocking laughs
rang through my ears, vibrating
a sinister shade of red.
Eyes, downcast in shame, widened.
Red and gold dots and dashes
peered up from the world below,
while matchbox cars cruised slowly.
A collective whisper rose-
But, is this view not enough?