"flight"
we want to call it ingenuity
a craft of humble hands, loose parts
I lean into my turns even when
he's not around
I was a bad first impression
but he saw dark purple, red
bow suspended in the flight
he wanted for his heart
he said I soared like I was
born from the wind
but I came for the sea,
for radio waves and
endless blue
I've only kissed with
my mouth closed
I don't know how to
tell if he loves me enough
to let me land