FLANNEL

If you have ever stepped foot on an airplane
stored your belongings above seat 22a

your arm touches the side of his arm
and your heart touches the bottom of your
chair
the runway
stom-ach
the steward comes around with the drinks
with extra peanuts.
and you reach across to collect your 13 dollar
plastic
cup of wine
and he winks and says
I heard it was going to be a smooth flight.

you might become his wife
or that stranger he spoke with
on that really tough flight

a note is a note
a note is a note.

moving my hand
is easier than
using my lips
remember?



all these moments add up to nothing.

Because when I sat with crossed legs
beaming eyes
your beard
seducing
my enteral solar system
I was screaming inside


all the moments
of waiting rooms
and
silences
and
50,000 miles

skip to the part of the movie when
its raining
and
he has the umbrella
and you are running late to catch your train

and he kisses your mouth
then everything fades to black
and the credits roll
what now? what else?
there is nothing more.

skip to the part where you turn down EVERYTHING
>one
for the one chance of becoming
all
he needs.

skip to the part where
I sit there with this ladylike
childlike smile
and my future
hidden
in the pocket of your flannel shirt
8 buttons of wonder
each hypmotizing me
indivisually representing
the past
and what shall be.

depending on
my weakness(s)
and its transperency

oneday when i'm brave
I'll say all I've wanted to say.