"Tell me how far you will go if you really want to keep me close.” The lyric sounds present yet absent, too familiar to pay attention to, though it hints me on our unspoken accord. “I remember tears streaming down your face when I said I will never let you go.” As a result it can't advance, it can't take the upper hand. I'm euphoric with that firm embrace though i never ever shared it with anyone else. Without a lucid expression to each other we know that, if we chose to, we could venture into something reckless, even pointless. “Feeling close but we are faraway, farther than we think we are.”
As the cabin fell languish, I found my sentience lucid than expected. Is the caffeine reining in the back, out of all cases as the most eminent one? It’s way better than the impasse of drowsiness anyway. The interstice of the window shut down glimmers. Amorphous sense of prelude. I’m stunned with and at peace with the pace my two neighbors and I created. At the moment while their breath calmed arms staggered in their dreams, I hope I am too. “There’s monster in my dreams, I should fight’em but I let them in. It’s killing me slowly.”
The nightmare creeped as the plane is declining height. As the air pressure changes my ear didn’t feel well. All the machinery rumble made a soundscape in and of itself. “Meet me in the middle of night and let me hear you say everything’s okay.” I shut out the world to open up thoughts, to let the inner universe take over. As I'm inwardly present and completely distant comes the greatest moment that transcends all language. To compose poetry is not to utter but to listen, so does anthropology.
The astonishing sunset awaits us, no matter the exact time, as long as we dove down high from above and saw through at the right time. The New York City leaned, boosting its colonies of glow that stood in the night. I threw my sight from the window. What's happened there? Whose light is it? Whom is it lit for? I wonder, and I can’t see it clear. But the depth index is too big to see it clear; the blur blurs. Physically and figuratively.
10:10 July 21, 2025. In the clouds above the Pacific Ocean. Flying from BJ to NYC.
