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.

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