Seeding


we crease 

the folds of our thoughts,

 paper planes rumbling

at the departure gate 

of a fractured runway.

.

their diffuse contrails

seed a future

that gestates in the space 

between our breaths.

 passenger is pilot,

as we press an ear

to each other’s hearts

.

with the warm breath from the tarmac

to osculate our bare flesh,

we adjust the ailerons,

in each moment 

conforming our wings,

to the shape of love.

.

© M.G. Iannucci 2017

Photo: Things We Lose by Marek Kalich

3 thoughts on “Seeding

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