Photography by Ashley Syers
you’re lonely hung behind that glass wall dotted with rain spots gazing out over the silver
tarmac’s rippling pools forming watery mirrors of blackness. you're clutching that ticket tighter
watching glaring cylindrical beasts skate slowly over the stretches of rippling black quilt—toys
in a larger navigational game. lightning-white reflections on false wings jump you from your
seat the flashes of orange flick your darkened face with dread and you hope to sprint blood
echoing in your ears away from twitching hands that coiled you in thick rippling quilts. this
treeless place that you hated like you hated marmalade sticking to your fingers—clutching the
ticket tighter tighter tighter scuttling into hollow-bellied cylindrical beasts eyes widening when
you spot ant-sized me below, launching you into your grey quilt sky.