i was the sky you were pretending to navigate.
eating bagged peanuts & talking about
the next destruction. i used to never
lock my face. i let ghosts come & go as they pleased.
now, i have a ring of keys. i add a new one every day
so the true key is harder & harder to find.
looking down out the plane window at a bruised knee,
clouds all around i watch an eagle die
& fall as an envelope. meanwhile, the mailmen are searching
for the house we used to live in. now, a leveled field.
A rust broken pipe still protruding from the earth.