Of course not. each updraft a soaring appreciation for worldly things, textbook happiness drowning distraction in a pond plump with water lilies and tadpoles, sinking down to the dirt, belly raw on dizzy ground, feet scrabbling for a safe touchdown, sure this day there must be a rock or a tree trunk, some natural end to the in- between where a bitter desperate aftertaste singes the mouth, certain nothing else will be known, that this sour tang is only to remain on this tongue forever, no
asking you if you can relate is like expecting the sun to rain down and openly weep itself out, quite impossible, come on - remember, you must see clearly - here
comes the lift again, fondest flying above, fully forgotten panic until winds falter once more