Fear of Flying

Standard

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Wide-eyed, deep breathing

in 45 degree angle ascent

through the clouds.

 

Knuckles whitened into seat

with the ready, set, go position

past the starting line.

 

Palpitations

level off to the rhythm

of the death trap and its engine.

 

Head above the foamy

white sea. Its vastness interrupts

phobia at the window seat.

 

Sailing across the booming frontier

(not the last) on a soft hum,

I barely flutter to new phases.

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