In Greek mythology, Icarus soared through the air like a bird. But somewhere between peaceful ecstasy and reckless excitement, he flew too close to the sun which tore as the very workings of his wings until there was nothing left. My girlfriend tells me she thinks that I invite her places out of pity. And I've never been one for love poems, but how do you tell someone that the closest thing to heaven you think your damned soul will ever see is the spark in your eyes every time I tell you I love you? How do you tell someone that these hands are that of a sinners and this dirt may never wash clean but I swear there when our hands meet, I can feel infinity and this temple can hold the divine again. Ya know, I said I'd never let someone be my god again. But I promise to have faith in this as long as you let me. How do you tell someone that at age 16 you wanted to unzip your skin but now the very thought of leaving for a single minute feels worst than any blade ever could? Even your name tastes like copper from living in these veins. Icarus found a love that killed him. And if I were to die like him, it wouldn't be all that bad.
L.D.
