Set To Fly

A kiss chiseled out of a whisper.
Long looks at the ceiling fan.
Spokes of hard light spinning.
Hard games melt away.
The bard's triumph is attention.
The rug is a lovely runway.
Lots of elevation going on.
Many, many mires to admire.
Bags of misunderstood magic.
Three illuminated bar signs.
The smoke of sunrise swirling.
The arrival of the great caravel.
Waves of conclusion wash over us.
A kiss imprinted on the hand.
Observing the great going-under
into a world unseen, an earth unearthed.
There it is.