Flight 

Cloak yourself in abandon. Check in yesterday, as today I’m not your mirror grounded. Always flying away from gates (from Home) insisting love.  Jealous horizons know the lack of air, the spin of hatred. To mock (now, mourn) the flip that made the clouds our center. 

Nothing on this plane understands the blank in respite. Take your traveling things with me. Votively await to exit your tomorrows.

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