The Tower


As morning brightness

sparkles on water far below,

a tiny silver bird turns toward me,

grows into a screaming vulture

and shakes the tower

beneath my feet.

Orange  fingers reach through

cracks and holes,

seeking me,

hot breath against my back,

urging me along.

A young woman stands,

head pressed against the outside wall.

dread and pleading in her eyes.

She comes to me,

her fingers searching for mine.

I open them to her.

Seared by the inferno,

we spend a silent moment memorizing each other,

as dark tendrils search between us.

She swipes a fist at smudged tear trails.

Together,

we step to the window ledge.

Sharing one last glance,

our hands grip tightly.

We escape into cool, blue air.

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