did you know that last night, i dreamed
and i was flying so high and i could feel
the breath-beat of my wings, hear the rustling
of feathers in the wind. the sun beat down-
i wanted to fly into it and burn, feel the heat
lick at my skin- and i understood icharus
and his final wish: to fall to the sea
in a blaze of shining beauty, a last beacon of
death, and of warning, to any who loved
the sun's harsh carresses too well.