Flight

   I’m cloud filledjet rises, you returnas always: a phantombuoying me up. I rely on yourinsentient presenceit gets emotionaltouching strata remembering us. This is economyno stream linedleft turn blaséwhite napkin for your daughter now. I relinquish holdas turbulencebounces: if Idied up here at least you’dfind piecesof medrifting. Cloud filledyou slip throughmy fingers: I waitfor your face to haunt me.  Listen here