Tie one on me and we’ll
see if I fly: if I really
lift my feet from the ground.
There’s a sound of
aching and a
lack of respect,
then I purple with
reflexive, curt bruising.
Try again and pretend
that never happened
again, and again
we shall aim for
the stars.
Scar tissue has memory
that keeps me alive
while I strive to
disappear into another
Tie one on me and we’ll
see just how high
I can fly
when nobody
is looking.