the sun sets, the plane rises
I wonder if anyone has ever noticed
the city looks like a bright circuitboard
when you're 20000 feet above
something dings outside my headphones
"the captain has turned on the seatbelt sign"
"turbulence ahead"
my ears won't stop popping
and everything is muffled
and there's white noise trapped inside my head
so I close my eyes and breathe
and suddenly I'm back in that dark room
phone pressed to my ear
where everything but his voice sounded foreign
I tell myself to
breathe in
breathe out
breathe around the fact that
every time he looked at you that day
your chest felt less tight
breathe in, breathe out
breathing passion into every word we speak
just like old times
breathe 1 breathe 2 breathe 3 to 10
yes, you're still breathing
he's here again and you're still breathing
anxious breathing over the phone
in the dark revelation
that the wire connecting your phones
is thinner than the wire
connecting your souls
keep your breathing steady, Lauren
as if everything he's saying isn't
leaving you breathless
breathe as if every word that's said
every connection that's made
isn't a dull knife at your lungs
breathe
breathe
breathe
I open my eyes
the city has disappeared below
the plane is shaky
I almost laugh at the irony
"turbulence ahead"