To the man sitting right beside me

As our arms brush against one another

And we both fight to stay awake.

Yet the temptation of sleep is too

Overpowering and our own power is over

So we fall into a slumber

As our arms graze one another.

Without ever saying a word to each other.

Without knowing each other’s name.

Without seeing one another again.

We have connected only to disconnect.

We found comfort in our rest with our arms alight,

Because airplanes refuse to grant us

An extra armrest.

The Prospects of Digging

When I was younger, I thought I could dig a hole

to China.

And it wasn’t until I met you

And you dug into my heart and made it whole

That I learned that it is okay to end

Where you begin

And to begin where you end.