people used to be able to smoke on planes closer to some high power when they were up in the sky, i understand why they’d want a cigarette but the flight attendants glared at me for no reason at all so i sat primly in my ugly blue seat
in the airport i saw unmade beds and taps left running, and shriveled houseplants in the bags under the eyes of weary travelers so i avoided eye contact with my parents
i had left the country my family’s suitcases stuffed with broken dinner plates and in passport control, my mom said “she’s with us” the woman behind the glass asked when my birthday was and i almost lied just to see what would happen just to revel in my youth i don’t know if i regret telling the truth i don’t know if it even made a difference but you need one knife to carve another so i clung to my ignorance
it was raining in two cities at once but sunny in the one i arrived to and i walked through other people’s exit wounds as i saw, for the second time, the road leading away from the airport so i focused on the white lines on the street and not the tires of the taxi
a thousand paper cranes to hold fingers trembling, distraught to keep or to unfold? i didn’t know so i made my way across europe silently.