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Descent
clouds
a landscape within itself.
rugged mountains, eddies pooling
in salty seas, trails ablaze
weaving through ripples.
each layer peeling back as we
sink lower to reality,
yet each layer brings a new
terrain.
the sun casts deep auburn
across the endless stretch,
creating faux sand dunes or
whatever your mind pleases to
create.
I wish I could reach out
to just feel,
even though I would grasp
thin air.
something I could watch for hours,
even wake up to.
though other might find it
distasteful,
to me it's an alternate
world.
a new layer brings
anger and worry,
heavy clouds drowning
us into puffs, turbulance
teasing our plane.
my insides threaten to
scratch up my throat
after what feels like riding on
constant cycle.
smells become amplified
beyond capacity.
apple lotion, bubbling coke zero,
and chlorine.
rushing up my nose
begging at the walls of my
brain to surge through,
and headache kicks in.
the muted chatter
rows ahead mixed with
the whining engine makes my
hands bead with sweat.
the rough contact with
worn concrete screams
we made it,
and relief soothes the
waves,
subsiding.
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Wrote this flying home from spring vacation! My hands were begging for a pen, and the words peeled right off.