Found in the Wreckage

One ticket, last red-eye.

“I'll take what she's drinking,” 

I say of the redhead ahead.

Glass in hand, 

I swirl cola over ice.

Clouds beyond control

trail the lacy sky,

burning more fuel

than doubt burns

calories in my thoughts.

Mind drifts, joints ache.

As high as she makes me,

Raylee’s indecision

shifts turbulence.

I wait, bag in hand.

Rain loosens from the clouds.

Muffled voices crack intercoms.

I smoke, flick ash.

“There you are,” she says,

tears spilling faster than raindrops.

“Everything okay?” I arch a brow.

“I didn’t know how much I loved you.”

She cups my cheeks and kisses me.

“What am I missing?”

“A plane burned into a fireball 

and fell into the Pacific.”

I look, search for words. 

“Not funny, dear.”

She sighs and shows me.

“Same airport,” I say, stroking my chin.

“Same man I want for life.” 

Her labored breaths and sharp 

words draw attention.

“I’m glad.” I grin.

“That?” Raylee catches a tear.

My eyes roam 

her sleek, pale skin—sin.

Our hands, sweaty—

what shall be,

we will see.

This silver ring

ignites a plane crash

of romance—

we're the lone survivors,

landed once and for all.

By Andy Cooper

From: United States

Website: https://writeovercoffee.blog/

X: AC0040