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This writing was accepted for publication in the 108 page perfect-bound ISSN# / ISBN# issue/book “Where Icarus Went” Down in the Dirt v216 (2/24) Order the paperback book:

Order this writing that appears in the one-of-a-kind anthology The Limits of Imagination the Down in the Dirt January - April 2024 issues collection book		get the 422 page January - April 2024 Down in the Dirt 6" x 9" ISBN# perfect-bound paperback book:

Where Icarus Went

Sarah Phillips

Weary winter light
Come the rye
Think I’ll leave this bed

Can’t trust it anymore
After last night
When I was

Flat on my back
Bare face to the ceiling
Gravity
And cool white sheets
Stopping me from falling
Upwards
Terrible open space

But nothing could stop me
From folding in
Going under

Eyelids
So thin
So tight
Glowing yellow-green butterflies
All I felt
Pulsing
In my ears, in my chest, through the silence

Gone
I don’t remember the fall
But I remember what I dreamed at impact:

Just as it all became too loud
Rhythm of warning and pulse
The world stilled

A jagged rock
Cold roots on the ocean floor
Turning her face
Up towards the sky’s promises

I didn’t understand why she ignored the glittering sea
Blue mother
Icarus fallen but finally satisfied

I didn’t understand
Until I saw the shapes in the water
Listened to their song

They told me to dive into the cold
Forget
And find final stillness
Almost did

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