In Flight

We rock
above glacial clouds
carving grief lines
on sky.

One could fall through.

Below, the plains shamelessly scatter
their deck. Canyons wrinkle skin
that the rivers have shed.

Tomorrow
you would have been
three months
learning my face.

Now loss has me
on a leash. I race
between homes
with a faint lantern

my body
a chasm within which
your heartbeat continues
to continue

to disappear.