We are soaring far below terrestrial bruising now

We are soaring far below terrestrial bruising now

We are gliding along earth-strained tracks

We are filling this cold lacuna with slight bodies 

That, just moments ago

—a dozen heartbeats or so before the threshold—

held a sublunary heaviness

Is gravity weaker near the core?//////+

There’s a man in a suit here, seated a few open-mouthed sleepers to my left— his tie is black and loose around his neck and he is very bald. He is lighter than the rest. I watch him twist the plastic letters of a beaded bracelet around and around. I can't make out the name-  just a few letters surrounded by beads in the shape of flowers.

His thick fingers fuss with the letter L as he hums cross-sections of a secret melody— 

notes that skip off into the limp thunder of this aluminum belly,

in the respiratory swells of our apathetic solace.

He’s late for dinner.

Here’s my stop.