The Fall

A black cloud hints of rain

and you think of the industrial city

you grew up in

There was no more industry in that city

there was barely even a city


You remember how you once climbed

an abandoned crane

and tried to breathe in the air indifferent of the presence

of the old chimneys, or to see the city

you grew up in


from the perspective of its sleeping iron bird

but the only thing you saw

was your fear of heights

imprinted on the ground

that was holding the crane immobile


And even though the weather often changed

and the people were moving out in search of jobs

and the good children were turning into spiteful adolescents

you weren’t able to distinguish them from one another


there was never ever something

that could thrill you or excite you – even hurt you –

– so you thought


The birds were hatching and learning to fly

changing their bodies like the threes were changing seasons

To you, it always seemed like the same bird

a living bit of coal

contrasting with the orange of the sky


Flying over three empty rivers


If you have ever really jumped


The sense of fall would shallow your bones

with the urge for someone

to lift you up

by the waist

to pull you by the wrists until you fly


How you wanted to meet someone

who would save you

from your lack of expectations

from your low blood pressure


How desperate you were for anybody to tell you

the fall would hurt less than the jump

What are you looking for?