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from the runway 
I think of texting you,
landed in lisbon

but then I might crack
if you replied
how ru?

it would start a whole
long drawn out
text novella

and those are
the worst
because you love me

you’d ask for a reason 
but the reasons are vague
something about childhood 

and a grief that I learned 
before words
ancestral hurts 


floating and shifting 
like clouds but 
never really 

taking shape
my two daughters 
are dozing in seats 

beside me all 
my attempts at happiness 
a learned response 

just the same 
as the ache    
I can’t tell you 

the feeling
in a text or whatever 
of keeping it together 

on a plane about to de-board 
rims of my eyes as 
useless as sandbags 

trying to hold back 
hurricane waves 
a burn in my throat 

from swallowing 
years of hurt
I can’t text you

so I blow my nose loudly
people start to crowd 
the aisle already 

jostling for position 
I put myself between 
two men 

one spoke in spanish
dejar passar
a la madre

and i can’t
wait to see

you again

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