You, who are thirteen

On the first flight,
i’m so sick i can’t see.
The attendant asks if I’m ill.
I croak, “Obviously.
Hot water, please.”

On the fourth flight
my colors have changed
from white to red
I have some bruises
but it’s in addition to
some quality visions

like the ten year old
i sit next to
who doesn’t speak english
but reminds me of you
you, who i taught
all of my nice things
you who speaks
a mile a minute,
you who believes in sharing
and gossip
you, who have turned into
such a grammar nazi,
you didn’t get that from me.

I will wear a shawl
when i make my appearance
i apply aloe vera, bruise cream
stage makeup and vaseline
in preparation
to make an appropriate enough

I let the little boy
take the window seat
i have chocolate milk on me
for some reason,
a rush to eat before the flight
i give it to him,
i spend awhile smiling
while he looks out the window
eyes wide as we hurtle higher

then, i finally call you
to report in
yes, of course,
I’m coming.
ive been working homeward
since christmas
we are going to go
on bike rides
we are going to go swimming

i havent looked this forward
to anything
you, who really
matters to me.

I’ll stay all week.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s