Khaimin

My relationship with you is like a dive, and I don't mean the leaping from tall buildings hoping to sprout wings or spontaneously combust on the way down kind. No. I mean my car got a flat on the side of the road two miles passed and I'm twirling the plastic ring of a one-ply napkin in a corner booth at the back of a just off the beaten track diner because I left my spare in your trunk and I don't know how to handle a jack and there is no cell service here, anyway. I mean the payphone in the vacant lot next door ate ten dollars worth of quarters before connecting me. I mean I finally got a dial tone and then dialed the wrong number; the

My relationship with you is like a dive, and I don't mean the leaping from tall buildings hoping to sprout wings or spontaneously combust on the way down kind. No. I mean my car got a flat on the side of the road two miles passed and I'm twirling the plastic ring of a one-ply napkin in a corner booth at the back of a just off the beaten track diner because I left my spare in your trunk and I don't know how to handle a jack and there is no cell service here, anyway. I mean the payphone in the vacant lot next door ate ten dollars worth of quarters before connecting me. I mean I finally got a dial tone and then dialed the wrong number; the

i met a girl once she was the one who plays the tattered piano during lunch one day i sat down on the bench she played to drown everything else she told me once that the piano was her only residence she composes too though not mozart she writes the notes that she lives through once in a blue moon she talks about family her father's a drunkard and her mother went away when she was young (she never did cut herself) she talks very little sometimes i wonder if the music was her voice but always i will be listening

i learned how to board an airplane when i was eight years old. Spongebob-hologram backpack and fitted pink baseball cap, i was on my way to Disney World when they taught me that your ears pop because the air is less dense way up there. i broke into the cockpit and asked the pilot “how does God breathe?” and he let me sit on his lap for a whole two hours, told me “look for his lungs wedged between the clouds.” i can’t say i found them but ever since then, i’ve spent mild Spring days and airplane rides searching for an existence i know isn’t. i jumped out of the last airplane i was on. they

Too often it was impossible to see the horizon; the way forever curled, sleeping, in the lines of our palms.