Saturday, April 24, 2004

About You.

I got a sunburn waiting for you to land.

Squinting into the sun, I try to make out its precise colour. Yellow? No, orange turning red. I look away and close my eyes, tight, watching a red ghost sun dance in the darkness.

Standing on the dry, cracked asphalt of the tarmac, I wonder how it could be that the sky didn’t try to keep you forever. How could it let you land?

I notice that big chunk of metal glinting in the sunlight while it’s still miles away. You’re on there somewhere.

After your little white plane taxis to a halt, I wait anxiously until I see you step onto the stairs. You smile and wave in my direction.

You don’t know how crazy I am.

About you.

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