my locked away wings...

he's all locked up emotionally, cold himself even though he accuses everyone else of the same thing, the distance water freezes too when the molecules lace up and find holes where gravity floats a less dense life that fits neat rowed tilled loam fed rain and daylight in disguise, all the eyes deepen towards the warmed worn exits bottle rockets looking like something to pry a corner peel, blow it all up is overheard in the gather beneath the yellowed sodium sorrow of streetlights only borrowing the geometry of recognition and how things relate past the bloom once the high of discovery wears off , Icarus again, fishing in those shallows...