City, the Morning After 01

Screen Shot 2018-03-02 at 4.11.20 pm

Questions as you/I crane your/my neck:

Were we always able to touch a cloud? How did we figure out how to sit on one and jump to another? How did we learn that we can make the things we do not have, i.e. wings (NB: what else can we make)? How did we create roads in air and follow lights instead of traffic signs? How did we feign ourselves a bird, a fairy, a demi-god with wings? How did we build towers halfway to the sky? How did we begin to take for granted that we can reach out a window and brush against a star?

How did we get here?
— Here, here.
Halfway up. Were we always so incredible or curious or kind? Did we always carry love at the tip of our fingers, ready to turn a stranger’s face into gold? Halfway down. Were we always so selfish? Were our voices louder than our thoughts? Were there roadmaps to living in the present that required cleaning out our pasts?

How did we begin to look up more often than we look down? Heads disappearing into clouds, were we always so lost? Were we always so unsettled and unrooted, feet disappearing underneath our imaginary wings?


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