the airplane’s going down and we’re breathing into each
other’s mouths, trace amounts of oxygen in exhalations.
i want to punch through to your heart, inject it, love like
epinephrine. you don’t like needles so i keep mine hidden
under my tongue. save the moment for something worth
saving, and this is, i whisper to you as the hydraulics fail.
your mind is a black box, indestructible, holding secrets
that they’ll only find after we die. we are flightless kiwis
who dream of the sky. cloud cover can try to hide desire,
but this free-fall will last forever and we’re bound to be
revealed eventually. kiss me again, i am dizzy with dropping
pressure and if this goes on long enough, we’ll be swimming
through the air inside the cabin, astronaut imitations, where
we can’t tell which is spinning, the world or us.