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.