Fly from Manta by The Spring

It's all we've got. Razor's edge rapier drift papercuts on the skin of the world. Plunging down the well we've lost the bucket the walls have no footholds there's nothing to grab onto, hands covered in slime. Sustenance in the act itself. Plying with the end everyday every rotation. I want us to endure. Fragile, lofty, bloated zeppelins in the domain of the welkin. If one of us falls we all do. Skydivers all of us. Pound the air uncertain syncopation errant timing things move differently up here. Rushing wind satisfies the constant itch. Jellyfish through the clouds, propelled by spirit. Bees in the vacuum. Melodies we've never heard before made of pure thought. The entrance of the observer causes the spiral to collapse but something new emerges returns surely surely. Unimaginable physics expanding map. Cartographers of bliss and dejection. The plains stretching out. Entangled flatlands waiting unfolding accumulating merging. Already at the destination. Identification with characters, predecessors, mythological actual. The allure of the story - causal chain. Natural combustion. Jettison. Embrace.

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