orangegerberas
poetry. terse, whimsical vignettes of love and dubious remorse.
08 February 2015
no winning
even as I stare
into the inky blackness
of night-time sky
35,000 feet up in the air
you are right there
staring back at me
turbulence
flying somewhere again
what does it matter where
all these thousands of feet
up in the midnight sky
your ghost flies along with me
without stopping to breathe
outside there is a storm
and inside it rages still
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