1. Learn to fly
2. Fly away
I keep it folded in my pocket
like a receipt for something
I didn’t mean to buy.
Some days,
“learn” feels too ambitious
so I just stand on tiptoes
in the kitchen
like maybe gravity is negotiable
if I’m gentle enough.
I watch birds the way people watch miracles
like there’s a trick to it
they’re not telling anyone.
Nan says “open the windows
let the air in”
as if air has ever stayed
just because it was invited.
I make tea,
hold the warmth between my hands
like it’s proof of something
like it might seep in
if I wait long enough.
There are moments,
small, almost embarrassing ones,
where the light hits the floor just right
or a ladybug lands on my sleeve
and I think, maybe this is it
maybe this is what staying feels like
but the list stays the same
1. learn to fly
2. fly away
I haven’t crossed anything off yet
just added, quietly, at the bottom
3. stay
(just for today)