Every Cell Choosing to Be There

Lyrics

The room was breathing. The gravity wasn't in the floor, it was in the sheets. A pull, a silver thread of suggestion. The dream wanted skin. It wanted heat and friction and the old, familiar story. I refused. I told my body: upward. I pushed my hands against the walls, which had become mirrors indexing other mirrors. This current will not run that way, I said. Not tonight. The shadow in the corner of the room, the one who wears the hat, only nodded. I decided to fly instead. A redirection of the blood. A rewriting of the plot on pages made of air. And the sky opened. Not as a space to cross, but as an embrace to fall into. The velocity became a caress. The air, a skin against my skin. This was it. Flying while loving the flight itself. Every cell, every single integer of me, vibrating with a clear and silent Yes. Every cell choosing to be there. The clouds were not water, they were warm breath. The void between stars had a texture, like brushed chrome. I pushed my hand through a constellation and felt the hand push back. This is real, it told me. And I believed it. You are the wind, I thought, and the thought made you the wind. You are the body I am moving through. You are the body that is also mine. We are the same infinite hotel, checking into every room at once. Is this flight? Or is this finally landing? I looked for an edge, a seam between me and the expanse. There was only the feeling of choice. A quiet, cellular democracy. A million billion votes, all cast for *this*. For the taste of ozone and the feeling of forever arriving. And the sky opened. Not as a space to cross, but as an embrace I was already in. The velocity was a caress. The air, a skin against my skin. This was it. Flying while loving the flight itself. Every cell, every single integer of me, vibrating with a clear and silent Yes. Every cell choosing to be there. The dream did not end. It dissolved. It left the feeling of consent on my skin. The feeling of every part of me, agreeing to the light. Waking up with the ghost of wings. Waking up still choosing.