we had hopes like hot air balloons
neglecting well-worn, well-walked concrete and broken
glass, we went up
up up up
naive into the melted sun/sky
we ignored the air space of suckers below
and assumed what wasn't ours, up
into the vapor of post--[pick your poison]
then the fire cut
the massive womb
of heated air trembled
and the preserved, the inflated, the invisible
the ghost
cut sharp into electric wires.
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