Flipped

I think I’d rather the world was flipped
to walk on the sky
and play the shapes it implies
to morph on command,
just to gaze at the land
that my feet used to know so well-

I think I’d rather the world was flipped
I’d hold the stars in my hands
and if you could not understand
I’d kiss you with words
and we’d pity the birds
finding beauty in sadness
being lost in its absence

We’d find a place where the glass isn’t His
but just is.
where no choices are wrong
so why not just play along?
because this poem’s a lie
and the world truly is just fine.

I think I’d rather the antecedent to I
was me.