It was like this at one time: 
no heaviness, just emptied infinity. 
When we mature, instinctively reaching 
for an anchor, we learn the burden 
of gravity- a body falling down, 
creatures with wings that were never 
meant to fly, the weight of luggage 
carried onto the train stuffed with 
everything we are; how we pull 
and fight to stay grounded. 
In the "underside" of weight and slowness 
a part of us exists- where shadows flicker, 
coalesce, dancing stars shooting through 
our universe, more dead than alive, 
a tall cathedral where prayers are said, 
wingless, weightless and rising.
 
 
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