Tasting the Sky

4/28/2025

I drift in a purgatory which changes shapes
when I press my fingers into the stones which abound.
And when I fold them into more interesting forms
the colours in the sky respond in kind
to brighten this place
where my every action spins vibrancy and warmth.

I am at the foot of a heaven which I build as I climb.
When my fingers press into the sky and pull down,
it becomes clay at the top of an ever-growing mound.

And when I am tired,
I cover the parapets of this monstrous tower
with the imprints of those who have helped me lay it so high,
and I carve into it recesses shaped like my dreams
of how I anticipate the sky will taste further ahead.