Monday, March 18, 2013

Hot Air Balloon

I haven't seen many since
But I did today, driving home
It drifted across the Baltic blue
Like a comically large, rainbow-colored mote
In some giant's eye

For years
I've tried to forget
Tried to stop wondering
But as it likes, the world insists
In the first gentle bump of an elevator
Or the flirty lightness in my stomach
As I drive over a swell of road

I tell myself
I miss you less
Than that hot air balloon ride we never took
The day you dropped me, from us
Easy, like ballast
Now I'm forced to imagine
The grand balloon's deflated, nylon envelope
Folded and cold in some dark shed
Unused, like my dream’s own overstock

That summer, lying in my bed
And burning with hurt and anger
I resolved to save all my money
And buy a balloon of my own
One I could take out at will
To fly out over your house
And fire the flame as I pass
The frustrated snort and glare of an angry god
Casting an orange, hateful glow
Over your house
A super-imposed hellfire
To burn it down, with you inside

But then
I also imagine the stoked burner
How it would bathe my skin in heat
As your lips had once done
And I remember the hot rush of our breath
That together, made me buoyant
How beneath you, I had floated along, seemingly forever
Gliding low and smooth and effortless
Barely off the ground
Just one remove from reality, but enough
To make it abstract, and bearable
Me, you, and the unchanging blue above
And that ever gentle, sideways lift
Of real, longtime love

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