taking flight

we revelled in the cold autumn rain
that pattered all night through our open
bedroom window:
the lime taste of oxygen

but suddenly the sky
sweeps in from Meknes
spreads blue hot chalk over
god-forsaken Lisbon urburbs
the asphalt crawling with
gross fat black
glistening princess ants

princesses in life-and-death quests
for the promised life
the promised home
they were entitled to
blind to future

they make me sick to the
stick to my trousers, to the windshield
as I myself turn gradually into no
boiling away on the
hot autumn asphalt

so in the stone blue distance
let us hide
in grounded old
in the museum of flight
before I vanish for good

let me hide my hideous
shrinking head
in the warm Bedouin tent
of the gentle cup of your hands
where I know you will love me
as I grow senile
and evaporate

I love you for so much more
than this


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