We were statues in the sky.
We were up there where the air is clean and
too high for airplanes to come muck it all
up. Too high for the kites to tangle in our hair,
too high for the gunshots.

We were birds who flew only up,
forever up.

Though I was more of a rotisserie chicken,
laying on one side for too long,
always burning my own wings.

And you were always saving me from myself.