Plans crash like airplanes
Sowing their debris in my memory
Like an itch that I cannot scratch
Like a flash of red I catch out of
The corner of my life
But there’s only space

People drop like debris
Leaving their breath on me
Like a breeze on a still day
Like a familiar constellation
On the other side of the
Celestial sphere

Breath catches like a knife
Sinking its flesh into me
Like a lover in absentia
Like a lost soul
Mourning its flight
From the incomplete

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