Speed Of Sound

Minos may control the land and sea, but not the air.

And so I will fly. I will soar in the clouds, up where I am safe. My wings will be aluminum and steel, graphite and wire. I will drink jet fuel. I will travel faster than sound. I will race the dawn.

And when I land, I will not smell garbage, or urine. I will not hear busses or taxis, alarms or sirens. I will not see cement or neon, smog or haze. I will not feel tired, or frenzied.

I will stand knee-deep in corn. I will drive straight on into morning. I will dive head-first into tomorrow.

And when I return, miles strewn between us, mountains fallen at our feet, I will stand befofre you a changed man. I will sing for you, and whisper into your ear, “It’s going to be all right.”

And it will.

P.S. Should fly too high. Should I soar too close to the sun. Should my wings melt, and send me tumbling earthward. Every song I ever sang is nestled in a tiny black box at my bedside. Set them free. Let them fly where I could not.

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