Midair

how can i think of other way to pass by the days?
there must be a nice lawn chair up high,.
to sit on some clouds to see from their point of view,.
maybe i will see you down below,.
waving in your new car to all the passersby who say hello,.
i fear i am not pious enough to earn such a seat in those holy clouds,.
but there is nothing to stop me from being loud,.
not to be heard but to be felt,.
a phantasm vibration felt on the arm,.
an ex lover grasping for life when falling down a cliff,.
that is perhaps the only gift that is allowed to me by the gods,.
if only i had the power i'd tell a star to pass a message from one light year to another,.
not heard but felt in the ether,.
cosmic connection through the static that fills vacuums,.
a tingling on your skin,.
like histamine battling the allergies from within,.
there is a certain, peculiar part of life that stops when the youth evaporated into the air,.
winding its way into the convoluted, crowded atmosphere,.
where I lost my mind when the airlines shut down while i was in midair,..,.,.,