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Though flying is falling

Carrie Etter
Why am I tempted to leap when the tall rocks point toward me like arrowheads? My body sags in the humid heat, it begs to fly into the river. As I perceive the level of gravity increasing, so my desire to defy it increases. Outstretch my arms. What is the consequence of wings? The rocks, the rocks jut out of the water. I want to fly, though flying is falling. The cool wash of the river. I stand on the bank, raising and lowering my arms.

From Magma No. 9, Spring 1997