Week 34

My hand was shiny
underneath the cabin lights
in the aeroplane in the middle of the sky.
The familiar nausea eats away at me,
as if distance,
real or imagined
is the reason
that people break up.

The first boy,
well he never swam across the Atlantic
so we slowly talked over a great
insurmountable distance
until our whispers faded,
or his did anyway.

The next boy, he got distracted
by a kangaroo,
or anything that hopped really.

This last one,
he felt real.
I knew he was just visiting
but he promised to stay.
Alas, words were the only thing he left behind,
along with a boxed bottle of whiskey
and a signature in a book.

So this is why I'm scared
of flying away from you.
You're going to forget
that I'm prettier in person,
funnier too.
I'll wait and see,
hold out hope,
for you,
for me
but I am fully prepared for you to leave.
But for now you are mine
even as I sit in this aeroplane in the middle of the sky.