Blue above, blue below –
My first flight around your world.
I’ve left the glowing lanterns
of the shoreline
and set my airforce
over the open ocean,
rising up to thousand feet above my hand.
My airplane did
spins and hammerhead stalls –
unmapped miles of towns and suburbs,
with patches of wilderness
and towering snow peaks,
flying along your skin.
Two ice cliffs,
(above the equator – the navel),
on which an unclothed human
can survive for days.
Your eyes played shimmering clouds
seen only at night –
Blue above and blue below.
I’ve passed the point of no return.
They radioed me the runway had melted,
I’ll never enter the planet Earth