Higher off the ground
Words by Segundo
Do not fly too close to the sun, his father said, for you will burn and die.
Icarus didn’t plan to, but it happened so swiftly anyway. He was enticed when he first caught a glimpse of the honey glow that surrounded the vicinity up to the great distance. The flush of faint crimson red that dared surface on his freckled cheeks, the blaze of the light that turned his pale ivory color to a light bronze complexion, and the illumination that breathed tiny warm kisses to his skin.
He always looked at the sun, albeit squinting in frustration. Always gazing, always basking, and never hiding. On days it was muted, he’d grumble to the vast clouds why it would conceal such beauty. He’d curse the dead of the night for existing, curse himself for taking the times that the sun was there for granted and only looked at the trail of the tranquil sunset. In the mellow glimmer of the dawn, when the black sky turns into purple, and the purple turns into the softest shades of blue and pink, he’d silently thank the gods for witnessing the first light.
Do not fly too close to the sun, his father said, for you will burn and die.
As he braced himself for the takeoff, he swore he heard the goddesses sing as the sun beckoned him for an embrace. He took one step forward and leaped.
It’s clearer. The clouds hindering his view vanished and he had a good look of the aureate sphere. The infinite azure sea below looked majestic, shimmered as if dusted with gold. His eyes fixed ahead — he’s squinting and blinking, but his gaze didn’t waver even when it’s blinding. His mouth ran dry but still smiled.
He was so, so close that he can finally say I have held you and you have held me. He knew he was forgetting something, but it was too late. He kept ascending until he felt a blistering sensation at his back.
The hot breeze wrapped around his throat, cutting the motions of his desperate trembles of regret. Except that it wasn’t regret. A tiny bit of desperation and fear, but never regret.
He held on to the clouds for dear life and for the hopes of it breaking the fall and recouping the lost flight. Thousands of embers exploded in his proximity. The heavy wax glued to the harness of his wings seared his back, his nape, his torso. The golden feathers he made in the name of his love were reduced to ashes. The rays scalded his irises like the force wielded by a bladesmith concentrated on the unpolished part of the lance that threatens to stab and crush the skull within.
When Icarus fell, for a moment that felt like forever, a voice echoed in his ears from the depths of the cosmos.
Pity, the fates have yet again deceived a foolish mortal. Placing treasures within arm’s reach just to take it away when their hands are already bleeding just to see how long they´ll beleaguer themselves until they let go.
Do not fly too close to the sun, his father said, for you will burn and die.
Icarus laughed, for you, why wouldn’t I?
