I know I am alive by the shake of my bones
from the vibrations in the airport.
The only touch I yearn to feel
is my back against the wall of sun coated windows.
I slide my way down,
and let the dust particles in the sun beams comfort me.

I know I am already dead,
because how nice would it be
if these vibrations broke the glass into thousands
of tiny blades against my shoulders
and hot air engulfed me,
so I was ****** away with the airplanes.

And somewhere in between all this,
I remember the light on your skin,
and how it fills me.
How you helped me to bury the clouds
of some unwelcome memories.
And the only reason I am here
leaning against the warmed, solid glass,
is because you've made the skies clear.