the person you were
left behind at the gate,
you make your way
down the aisle
to your seat
to meet
the next person who will change you
into the next person
you will be: arrived,
you rise, stretch, try
to fit yourself to a new
frame - someone
with fewer limits,
more options,
new language
with which to decide
what your life will be
and if
we could fly
without the aid
of mechanical wings, would
this still be? maybe
it's not the people you meet, but air itself,
the very sense of escaping
the limits of
our grounded
selves