Fly
Where are you in the sky in relation to me? Looping round
in a great curve coming to get me, down the other side. Do you see me in my
green and yellow stunt plane? I see you in your oh so pretty wooden airplane
moving like an angel. We fly and manoeuvre like swirling dervishes as the
ground replaces the blue, unreal three dimensional actions. God must have let
us do it. Nothing feels like it. Only flight.
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