Sunday, June 21, 2009
The engines rip air as they tear you from the ground and away from me. No taillights to watch slowly fade away. All too soon you're gone, only existing to me in my mind. I struggle to think of you there, your seatbelt fastened, hoping you don't get sick as you make your first turn, eyeing your rout and the legs you must step over when the time comes to use the restroom, preparing yourself for the hours ahead, and maybe, I dare to hope, maybe thinking of me. I struggle to think of you there, alive, independent of me, as the taste of you on my lips, and the feel of your fingers slipping from mine slowly fades. I stand, not knowing who I am, struggling to think of myself independent of you.