There is a pulsing heat
Like pressure
Against my face
And reflected in my coruscating eye: the burning city
In the ghostly smoke from this crucible
With my fractured hope in the melting ore
I lie.
But in my mind, I'm atop the tallest building
And from that high perch
I descend
I am weightless as I fall
Wind rushing past me
Boulevards growing larger in my eyes
And then...
I wake

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