we swam
without skin
in deep blue water
and dreamed
of flying
to faraway lands
unencumbered
by knowing
or the smell
of burning sky

and we soared
blindfolded
through starry plains,
where skinny arms
(still believing
they were wings),
sailed weightless
as Solitaires’ feathers

And we trekked
with open hands
over fenceless moors,
and flew
without radar
through wide-open
portals

and skated
in the icy stillness
of secret galaxies
where white dwarves
played flashlight tag
with the moon
as we tumbled
in red shoes
through fields
of flashing light,
having forgotten
we were water.

and we never,
(never once)
looked back.

And there were times
(in the beginning)
when we were
lighter than air …
formless ghosts
diving into pockets of time,
where there was no need
to see
or to listen
or to breathe …

How could we
have known
that the sky
had stopped speaking
to the land
or that the mountaintop
no longer sang
to the stars
at night

or that,
while we skated
on the surface
of our extended stay,
pools of blue water
gathered dust
below our feet

and grew thirsty
for heat

How could we
have guessed that,
while we were dreaming,
today had lost sight
of the sun,
or that tomorrow
had melted
under a blanket
of dark snow

or that the sun,
having grown tired
of offering itself
to a thankless world,
had surrendered
its warmth
to the sea
in dazzling shades
of blood-red sorrow,

leaving us there
in the cold
to reach
for the moon
without hands