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AIRPLANE MOOD

I sat quietly on the airplane
Conscious of how much space I am taking
He stared at me
But I choose to ignore him
He asked me what I was writing
I lightly smiled and told him about my poems
He tried to read one
But my handwriting was quite sloppy
I think quicker than I can write, is what I meekly responded
He laughed as we crossed the Atlantic ocean together
A short and sweet tale
United by the humor of prose

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