Icarus and the Sun

Photo Credit: ramastom at deviantart.com

I am Icarus
flying too close
to the sun.

My hands
start to melt,
leaving wax
stuck to the my feet,
dripping through air,
staining the ground
with my need.

Vacancy surrounds me
but I’m almost there,
and I can feel it burn,
feel it fry my wings,
dissolve them
as they yearn to touch you
one more time.

You are my sun
and I keep flying too close,
reaching too long.

I am plummeting
through nothing
and fighting for
just one more touch
even knowing
you are dangerous,
toxic to my flesh.

I’d die in your arms,
perish among the clouds,
my empty body
plastered like wax
to the dirty ground,
yet without you,
without your heat
to envelop me,

I would be dead already.

~Patience

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