—I’M A GHOST OF YOU, YOU’RE A GHOST OF ME 

 

 

Rocket Man

 

I fly to you through smog and panic, unbearable tightness, threaded ambiguity in the limbed wind, tossing me farther along, tripping over skyscrapers, glaciers and Mars, as I see-saw soar, me a man made up of discombobulated molecules, worries and triggers, bound by nothing more than a yearning stronger than life.