|Image by M. A. S|
One last, craning gaze at your titanium summit.
Before the T-minus counts the end of your days,
Before it says goodbye.
Your searing, white tail licks the concrete.
My palms pressed flat against the blast shield.
I don’t mind the hot rumble
As you spite gravity,
As you lift away from the mortal Earth.
If I could hyperspeed with you
Past the clouds
Until the atmosphere was a memory,
Until the world was small,
I would feed your fire with my lungs.
I would give you my oxygen to breathe.