AS 21

if you’re hearing this, it’s ’cause i trust you. there’s a lot of detail, high resolution scans.

i take an early flight. nothing good is easy. what am i forgetting? chocolate orange peels.

i program on the airplane to distract from humming in my eardrums; an engine whirring to life in my chest.

she applies the night before risks her body just for more. she knows she has to see it before i remember my face.

jetway’s made of glass, eyes have steel blades. what am i forgetting? 54-inch red shoelace.

“do you want to get the fuck out of this airport?” she picks up both bags before i can say a word.

she borrows a tapedeck. i hold her knee. is this ok? the postal service can’t ship this in a flat rate box.

distance desires ritual we find a matchbook what am i forgetting? ashen coffee. burning.

the next thing i know we’re at the terminal. lipstick can stain more than cardboard cups

time stopped in total: 14 hours, 28 minutes