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