Today the sky will belong to me.
I blink. It vanishes. Reappearing only when I choose to look
I have decided to trust that all I perceive was put there by me.
All that I make belongs to me.
Today the sky is mine.
Today is a frantic moment of lucidity.
Tomorrow the sky will belong to the earth again.
I'll spend a lifetime trying to determine
if today I am sane
or tomorrow, madness leaves with no time to make amends.
We call men mad as though we are any better.
As though we invented the sky itself.
As though this isn't all a circus.
A child born into fire thinks he's supposed to burn until he
A dog in a suit barks just the same, it's an awful racket.
Put the sky in your pocket and feel safe. It is yours.
Or perhaps you're no safer than a man in a jacket.
WRITTEN BY CHRIS MAWSON
PHOTOGRAPHY BY ASHUNI LUCÍA PÉREZ