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Here you will find the writings of the poet Theodore Waterfield

Airplane

I watch Jackie run
beautiful and free.
His arms stretched out
like wings.
I watch his delight.
The zenith in his face.
A comet streaking
in the heavens,
the flight of light everlasting.
I can never love
more than this.
Jackie,
my airplane,
taking off in the sky
with my heart
inside him.

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