Lagrangian Point (2)

 I've learned the feel of this ground,
    its surface forms me in shifts,
        hollow bones snapping and cracking.

These feathers used to be my own,
    but now the earth lays claim to those remains.
As I become one with the clay,
    it becomes one with me.


Tearing me from the ground-
    I heave, and creak, and bleed,
        and cold air seeps inside me.
I'm losing my familiar fragments,
    let into a strange and icy world.

I remember the ease of sorrow
    and where you pulled me loose.



You speak in words I've never known,
    full of color and song and love.

I've never felt this sort of sting before,
    twisting and writhing
        in a complacent sort of madness.
These fits and tremors
    ease me to the breeze.




These days, I drift steady in your wake-
    careful and trained, gliding on air,
        defiant of the distant, groaning earth.

I'll pace myself
    and one day

        you'll see

I'll fly by your side.