words by dominic riccitello

have you ever
felt fire
beneath a wing
with a grasp
of a hand
the devotion one feels
when passion
takes the wheel
we wade in
frolic out
run our hands
play in doubt
wondering where things go
when they go
what his name was
when we float
from love
to doubt
to the way things felt
when it wasn’t hell
and just the way
things held