Monday, February 9, 2015

Icarus II

He runs his fingers through my hair,
And I am lost.
It's a gentle feeling,
A soft assurance of affection,
And I am gone.

I would stay curled in his arms
For as long as he asked.

Once,
I flew too close to the sun,
Though not so far
That I am irreparably damaged.
Though my wings are singed,
I might still fly.

Why should I though?
There is a harmless dive
Into pure sea blue
Waiting for me
If I simply turn my face towards his.

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