written august 2024 on airplane.
see the h and m i used to work by from the sky
sometimes tire of looking for beauty in capitalism
a maladaptive habit learned young from my parents,
like lying to myself
the beach, perfect hemisphere
waiting for me to complete it? hold it?
from up here, it looks like i can
learn to speak with the artifical
but even my haphazard navigation's a dying language
i walk really close to the platform's edge for someone scared of getting pushed off it
