I am Icarus.
I am high.
I am joyful and flying and my burning heart is the wind that lifts me up
by the wings on my back.
I fly,
fixated on this big, round, orange ball.
I fly towards it,
though I know I will be burned.
My heart itself is burning,
and my joy itself is perfect,
and I love so much to fly,
that time becomes undone.
Time is just a construct.
This moment is eternal.
I am high and getting higher.
My fate is yet to come.