The Retirement Home on Jet Blue

Making eye contact with the 75-year-old man reading a YA novel next to me on the plane I beg to be thinSkinny enough to slide through the window sill It took him all his life to knowIt took me ten years to quit nail biting and now I wait for my first relapseWith fewer nails I slide through the window sillTwo crisp elderly women rock in wicker chairs as I climb from the airSucking on teabags reused for a second cupI am reminded that I am falling from an airplane but I pause for blueberry scones nonetheless(They are fresh scones and they are old women and I do not wish to be rude)I have all my life to know thus I pose the questionWhere does the boiling water come from?They posit the answer: an electric kettleAnd before I leave with my answerThey plea for thick wrinkless skin And a seat next to a 75-year-old man

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