A34. B36. Like bra sizes.
Then lift off.
It's dark. Mood, feeling, sensation. Eerie?
Then the lights of the city spread out below. Dawning only of recognition. Then clouds.
Close eyes. Bumps. Association to a Tragically Hip song, but first hear a different song of theirs... "at the looooooooooooonely end of the rink, you and me..." before the song originally thought of, the more apt "Freak Turbulence".
Thoughts of food seep in...morphing...sexual. Over an hour, first today? Female... But awake?...the hour, so early. Doubts that this would really matter if male.
Thoughts - death. Like being an orgasm, back to the source? Swirling in this for several infinite moments.... BAM! The seeming infinite orgasm of being dead ends as it zips down to merge with an orgasm on earth, a newly fertilized egg......eyes blink open, take it in, close, BUMP! Wheels down, screech....
1 comment:
That was quite a flight. Normally all I do on a plane is become poetry.
I'd rather be an orgasm.
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