The sky was painted in shades of light blue blended amongst touches of reflection and introspection as thoughts refused to let go. As
clouds sporadically set semblances of their existence into transient open spaces in a sun that fell halfway past an afternoon. As
they flew above us consuming spaces left untaken by the madness that perpetuated in the spaces we kept hidden. As
we realized that we are only a reflection of Is brought together and eyes that stare into a distance we will never reach. As
we realize that we will never have open skies.
That we will never fly.
That we are set.
That we are exactly what we are.
And that most times:
That that’s enough.
© Hudson Biko
Photograph by Leonard von Bibra
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