The suede seemed to suction to my thighs as I craned my neck for a better look out the musky window– I felt like I was sinking as we sat perched on what should have been the top of the world. The sun hung passively in the sky, and the buildings chased it over the horizon, begging the light to stay a moment longer. Everything seemed to tilt just over the edge while I watched the sun pass behind the clouds and you watched me. My palms were wet. My irises danced across the glass, hoping to find something I hadn’t seen before, but the sun continued to fall slowly away from the curve of the sky and you continued watching me.
Some days the wind behind my bones simultaneously begins to scream and sing, and I never know which is the correct response. There’s always a balancing act playing out across my waterline and the tears can never decide to fall from aching or laughter. From the tip of my tongue and all the way down to the dirt beneath my fingernails– everything is wondering what is going to happen next. I could chose to smile but the apathy forming behind my eyebrows always bursts from the betrayal, and so I cry and watch the water-colored world pull apart the edges of things that I had tried to stick together with glue that was never meant to be water-proof.
The glaze covering your eyeballs clicked at the beating of your eyelashes. Your head spun toward the dusty window and you pointed toward the buildings dimming on the horizon. You told me how beautiful it looks when the morning lights everything on fire, when everything breathes life and you are surrounded in your world on top of the world. I’m still looking to where you pointed– I am so happy to be sitting here with you, but everything is moving so quickly. “It’s so pretty, it makes my heart hurt”. I didn’t want to disappoint you again. I wanted to capture this moment in a bubble and stay here in your world but the earth wouldn’t let me stray from the pull of my bones. The pavement stretched out in front of us darkened and it was time to leave. I realized I had disappointed myself the most and looked the opposite direction of the sun as we descended the hill toward the world that demanded our attention.