basking in the aftermath of five, cheap hours of sleep;
love has stolen all my time, and i don’t care.
the fellas at table number five tease me endlessly about the ‘glow’, the ‘smile’, the way i tend to sing out loud, songs i’ve never heard before. i ask them, “what planet are we on now, anyway?” the only answer they have is wrong. why can’t they see how different everything is?
the gravity is different, but the clouds do seem to have the same shapes, i can see how they would be confused. time moves forward, as we do, which is familiar, but hours and days mean something different under this sun. the earth feels soft and forgiving to my feet and i just discovered that my new world is round. Will i fall off as it turns to face the moon come nightfall?
what is the name of the place we’ve found? what shall we call this world of ours, dear one? this sphere, this planet- no one will understand, will they, that we have slipped off into an atmosphere all our own. if they could only see the colors of the sky where we are now, if they could only feel the press, the music, the needing to dance and just be together, if they could only hear the future with its sweetly worded promises- they would understand. they would gather with their bottles of grocery store champange and christen us as we settle into our new world and hang up the plaque that says, “We Live Here.”
we do live here now. we’ve packed our bags with memories, ideals and knick-knacks to clutter the walls and flown off to own our planet. we’re going to colonize and explore and plant apple trees and wildflowers in every corner. it’s going to be lovely. roots will run tangled and wild under the crust and love is going to flourish.
they’ll see. we’ll send them postcards- everyone will get postcards, as soon as we figure out the name of our new world……