Circle within guilt
just sad

Otherwise
talk about his presence
take flight whenever I sense his body

I know what he always wished for:
Can you/I have a penis?
Can we roll together until we hit full velocity?

(this is a very poetic story about the ground and the sky, but it’s not rational)

Talk about it
Tell me
Try

A pilot could master me if:
My chest is bound
Heat flares from demands and affirmation

Warm air is a resting place, somewhere I don’t feel like drowning
But if I loose the things he pretends
Lose the ground
Pretend I don’t feel

Tell me
Try

But mostly just guilt
And pretending to be you

Stow away my presence
Take flight
Pretend
Lift
Contract