You were not at early mass
not at the small cafe with
the blue window drapes and
empty birdcage.

You were not in the clouds
not on the ground –
I tried to remember
how you used to say “Oui”
inhaling the sound like a
whisper in reverse.

In the passenger lounge
I endured time taking its time
my memories gone into hiding
behind horizontal lips.

I dozed at a higher altitude
as the plane hung still in the sky
aimed for my own horizon –
nearest you I was farthest away.


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