Tick Tack

Lift-Up

I want it night to be
Crowded not, not empty too
I want the cabin to be

A row just for me
Front seat window
I wanna out see

Rolling the strip will we
When blinking wing light
wavily will redden me

The roar, violent must be
Cutting my breath
like waves cut the sea

Long a moment must last
my psyche to cling onto me
when the ground sets us free

Like fireflies from a tree
I want down to look
earth lights running from me

Comets the sky should pee
Storms and lightnings
beneath us we should see

Heading somewhere may be
a room and a resting bed but
sky is our real country

Notes/Credits/etc:
I know that planes fuck atmosphere but that’s what poetry is about (among other things). Calming one’s vices.