How do you feel, he asked?
Thwarted, she answered,
with swollen eyes and a sleepy gaze.
It was too much to ask to stay contained
inside that white shirt. So she didn’t.
But somehow the dream turned
from an open sky to a lizard gaze
as 4500 fingers pressed buttons
tilting the world a little to the left,
leaving a trail of swallows and
a rainbow of marshmallows to the right.
How is your flight, he asked?
Burningly happy, she answered,
as they neither understood the pain
nor could read directions
as written in clouds.