there must be a ceiling broke-through
   an atrium somewhere
      or I will be trapped
      never to fly away

they will capture me no matter how rapid 
      my wings in ascent
         I travel floor to floor
a frantic search for egress

to the underside of the roof
      no farther

they rise in chase so I descend
   once past them
      they reverse 
so I rise again

   on and on

I spy a small tear in the fabric, 
         in a corner up and away where I bob to rest
               in a panic, I deflate, collapse
press through

I am atop a tall building
   in the gold twilight

               the world stretches far beyond below 

   gargoyles, fascia, domes and cupolas
too distant, too many to discern any detail

it is after sunset
   without a sense of morning 

to fly this course is not the same, but not unlike
   that to which I've grown accustomed

            one strong downward flap at a time
         I cannot, shall never return to the world inside 
               for the tear has been mended

I am uncertain if buoyance works here 
               don't fail me

I dip one wing to test the updraft
   lean into the invisible
like prayer
      I slip off the edge

         behind closed eyes, I know
               I am alight

I pick up speed
   incredible velocity

I will
   myself to crash
to no avail

   it is out
      of my hands

to those gathered on the roofs below, I am a rapid float
   a figment
                  an irritant to the world-bound

with new confidence I bank 
            atop the hot wind
      I shout to the searchers from the inside out now, to look up

         they see me

I point
                              tucked tightly, wings pinned, I commence my take-off
                                       like a fool gone wild I ride the envelope's curl
                                 upward against immense gravity
                                     to where there is no air, no light
                                        onward to the pulsar's hum, ejecting spent stages
I soar
               I vibrate and rattle, my needles all in the red
                  gears grind, metal teeth gnash
                            the beat-beat-beat of bleeding ear drums, tom-toms

                    the sound of planets birthed, of dying stars gone supernova
                              the roar of the wrath of the Almighty
                                    a crescendo of harmony, a superchord 
                                       dissonance unlike anything I'd ever presumed godly
                        nothing is quiet, all of creation in a single sound

                              then suddenly, nothing but quiet, palpable calm
                     radiant beams of diffracted light, prisms halo
                         the myopic blur of the eternal afloat on the placenta of orbit

               this is not an exit

         this is the path 
to re-entry

below me, the earth sleeps 
   dark and beautiful
awash in its indigo

together with the blue pearl
   the black 
   under the splay of Her jeweled hand
She points me at the wares

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