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I released my regrets like a million balloons
chasing the sky with their bright round bodies --
wingless martyrs caught each tiny breath of air
and soared,

a moment of epiphany
when your rubbery skin punctures
and the soul escapes.

There is no element light enough to lift me away,
no instrument to sever the strings that earth
my tiny anklets --

I sway with the seasons
as if I am surrounded by an ocean,
unable to tread water fast enough to run,
nor find the reach to break the surface

where those regrets float momentarily,
winking in the sunlight before they coast away,
waiting for my realisation --

they pollute my conscience
until I am ready to let them leave.

I blow watery kisses as I watch them fly --
tiny polka dots dodging clouds,
out of sight.