Flight

Wrote this on the plane to Ohio, transcribing it later in the evening before I sleep.

I love the feeling of a plane taking off - the rushes and dips as it wobbles and climbs its way above the gauzy layer of cloud that wraps the world below, pads it into a gift box. I like seeing cities splayed out below me, breathing, bustling and sleeping beneath me, playing a game of find-the-familiar-landmark as my perspective pulls out, broadens, peels away from the tangle of urbanity.

When the cloud curtain draws over that, it's just you and the hum of the engines and the sun. And then calm seas of white, for hours, as off you go to somewhere wonderful.

I like the sky. And I am hungry for the world it brings me to.