"Icarus," I breathe through my dreams of flying free. The naïveté of the youngling I desired to be was a warning sign to all that watched his descent. It was not his disobedience that led to this -- to his body buffeted in the merciless winds and swept up by the sea -- but being blinded by boundless beauty through his kaleidoscope vision. What more could one wish for than the all-encompassing euphoria of weaving through the sun-soaked clouds, of learning the meaning of freedom as you reach up to brush your fingers against the sun? What more could one know than wanting something so desperately that every shiny red sign is just one more bauble for your collection as you struggle to escape the empty abyss engulfing you from within, as you let the feeling of bliss envelope you for one heavenly moment, as everyone screams in tinny voices that you should listen -- listen! -- but at least you got this one second, this one heartbeat of a moment, to finally let the chains fall from your bloodied wrists and spread your newfound wings for all to see, for you to see, for once, for nobody but yourself before tumbling to the beat of gravity's forlorn yet never-ending song. And maybe he regretted it and maybe I will too but as I press my palm against the echo of the sunlit expanse reverberating in someone else's memory, one word slips from my parted lips: "Icarus."
4/19/2021 Inspired by the line "even Icarus got to fly" from Matthew Charles Shade's poem "Icarus."