paper plane

Standing at the threshold
of the rooftop, (breathing
every now and then), I could
feel the weight of gravity
pressing on my shoulders.

      inhale.

Holding the paper plane between
my thumb and index finger, I could feel
flowers blossoming on my navel.
Delicate petals unfurling into breaths
as the ocean inside my body flows.

                      exhale.
Releasing the paper plane,
I am 9.8 meters
per second squared
lighter. Onward the plane goes
to the embrace of the universe. Gliding
through the clouds,   eventually becoming
one of them.

One of them.

With the plane and my
breath, I hope I have
exhaled along

        the memory
of our nights.

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