If I listen to Hozier, I'm halfway to Ireland, she says. Then she rolls her eyes of blue oceans and green flames, and she says she'll have a smoke outside and call her mom to let her know she landed safe.
Talking about landing, it's better if your heart doesn't land on things, say people. Like do you know the weight of flying up again? Of folding your heart again after letting it so open, like a plane folds its wheels? Of defying gravity and just believing that the way is through the clouds? And that there will be another sight of a thousand little lights, and you’ll know in your heart it's time for a touchdown? Again?
How do you know? The heart is deceptive. I wish it was possible to only exist in the clouds, but even angels fell, and God became man.
So fall again,
Like snow,
Melt
And thaw.
If we takeoff
Again,
it won't be long.
A light is waiting,
home.
Land,
Heavy or light,
one day you'll call your mom
to tell her,
You’ve landed safe.
Beautiful 😍