On The Roof

On The Roof

There is only the sound of the cars
Passing, overtaking and a bird
In a cage, shrilling for the sun.
And the sun on the roof.

I have escaped. I have no need
To feel guilty as my face relaxes
Into emptiness. I can fill my skin again
In the sun on the roof.

I have all the essentials;
Cigarettes, books, a towel for the sweat.
The air doesn't press me to respond to its caresses.
It moves on, unruffled, to twist
In the dark space of the courtyard
Cool below me. The white walls shade
Down, licked by the breeze to doorways, static
And filled by the hiss of high voltage.

I could dive, gather my weight
And arc high with my chest open to the air,
Bring my palms together,
Point my soles to the sky and let
The Earth pull my empty face down into a smile.

I feel the snap as my fingers break
The concrete and the shock ricochets
Through my elbows and up my spine
As my head cracks open and
I slip my skin into the blue.
Alone.
Complete.