We sliced off gravity's tendons and her bones.
We cleaned her flesh and floated long and high
through a sky built with dust and steel and stones.
Now we follow secret currents to a secret sky.
We float for so long we fall asleep
and dream we're falling. We wake up
floating still. We dreamed we leaped
and fell, and find we haven't stopped
floating. We've left our children
and our husbands and our wives.
We've left the world of weights and ends.
We've left our deaths, our lives.
We're so far up you can't see us wave.
We're sorry. We can't stay.