flight

This time around the need came well before the act transmitted in an arc set my teeth and hair on edge. Two bodies traveling distances on separate Airbus 320s inexorably. The spotlight shines, need radiates. Found and found out.

Dancing came as a surprise, but body said yes before super-ego alter ego could cut in. Controlled losing of control. What happened next cannot surprise me, though I may feign, I may demure. When do fault lines appear? Leap into gap that was a line drawn in sand?

The taste of this one is metal in my mouth. Teeth and fingers. Nerve endings fray and knot and fray again, a complex knitwork. Bodies akimbo, breath shudders through, breathing me out and other in. What do I like want try newborn, this shimmering new performance?

Others have written my flesh, now this one too, a crazy fucked-up palimpsest. One in three 18- to 25-year-old women has a tattoo, ruining it for the rest of us. Hands shoulders knees and toes all sliding. Dead skin cells the detritus that keeps us present.

Need short-circuits need. The drive back may have come as epiphany, revelation of sunrise over elevated freeways. Bodies moving apart through space, toward the next body, the next bodies. This is irredeemable.