Wednesday, November 18, 2009

Like A Runway

Like A Runway

Does heavy cloud cover mean the game is off?
They have instruments, even instinct, been-here-before
to guide them. Flying blind, there are few unknowns
really. Barring divine intervention, this hotel will go
where they put it. Delta-192 clear on Apron 11-B, Over.

The only way these 2,400 miles have been predictable
is repetition. The walkway is slowly extended toward
the door. Soon, someone who failed high school will
usher us onward, and we'll go. Honey, nothing is perfect.
But, as I lick your knees, your inner thigh, and upward,

everything that is happening, eyes closed, is --

c. Ciprianowords, Inc. 2009

No comments: