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Falling
It is only when falling
that we appreciate the air
in which we swim,
as the energy of our hard ascent
escapes through our fingers' rake
to die in candle-smoke curls
in some cold heaven's upper reach;
our once-sought destination.
It is the falling to death
that gives us the confidence
to accept each achievement:
rung, breath, grip, surge;
and stop caring about false
notions of paradise, hope
for a slower fall,
for a softer landing,
that was less lonely
than the climb.
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