We’ve reached our descent
home.
I’m not sure when I started looking
out the window as we’re going down
like a run-through
for something bigger.
It’s really always been the
takeoffs and landings that
have forced my
hands tight as my eyes
shut.
But somewhere along the line,
It just became the colors and the shapes
And looking
out the window for something to create
more questions for me ask.
So I can steal the moment and think for myself.
The world doesn’t need to be everything. Sometimes it can be her hand, wrapping itself around mine, knowing I hate this, searching for grace in the crop circles, going down.