hollow flare
Glowing tadpoles hung in suspense
as he fell like rotted leaves
down to a rocky wet surface.
Cold water numbed his naked feet
as a muted sky opened beneath him.
An oily black bird tore
at the dead flesh of an empty book
as it hanged from its dead perch.
Rice paper curled in its beak.
A panic lifted in his lungs.
He pawed at the water’s edge
like a fish for flies.
The terror bird flicked ribbons in its beak
like banners held by children.
It dove and gnashed at his hazel eyes.
It cursed its prey and flung him skywards towards heaven.
The canopy of firs collapsed inward
as he fell.
The fear burned in his chest.
He burst through firmament.
As shards pierced through
like hot glass on thin skin.
A white blanket blanketed everything,
gold and silver glinting under a violet sky.
An invisible road formed around him.
A disfigured angel,
worn in tattered yellow cotton,
dug at his legs.
As she begged him, stay.
Salt burned his eyes.
He was held briefly weightless
and began again towards a golden sea.
He fell faster and faster,
ripping him through shapes of buildings,
chasing the horizon like a shadow.
The shapelessness grew larger.
The sky dashed his body
against the empty desert.
Terror birds gathered around him.
A dark hum pierced all sound.
He crawled, mouth filling with sand.
And as he died, he awoke—
slivers of light,
songs of birds.
haughty owl