flight school for not-boys

one day, i was pushed from the roof. no, i didn't grow wings. 
i fell into a pit of cherries. all blood begins with hunger. 
stains under my fingernails. i just wanted to taste 
a piece of cloud. the sun said, "boys are always trying 
to grab something." i said,"i'm not quite a boy." the sun laughed.
after that, i spent ever afternoon gathering feathers.
stood beneath the pine tree picking up even the smallest ones. 
the birds said, "not enough" until one day it was. 
i didn't learn to fly from them though. i tossed vases 
& picture frames out the window. saw how quick they became 
catastrophies. to fly is often to plummet. i let myself tumble
& all the feathers disperse. i'll tell them i flew.  

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