May cause drowsiness: day 12

Here is an aero­plane under the floor­boards, earth spill­ing from portholes.
Here is an aero­plane crushed into the wall, cock­pit a con­cer­tina of scrap.
Here is an aero­plane on the stairs, wings raised in twis­ted sup­plic­a­tion.
Here is an aero­plane caught in the win­dow, glass punc­tur­ing the fusel­age.
Here is an aero­plane on the roof, under­car­riage trapped in the gutter.

There is no pilot in situ, no co-pilot in place, no auto­pi­lot engaged.
There is no den­ted suit­case, wrenched apart, belch­ing pos­ses­sions.
There is no clump of straw­berry blonde hair caught on razor wire.
There is no red dress, ripped by hands and memor­ies of hands.
There is no grey shirt, but­ton­less, gap­ing and frayed by time.

Here is her pause for breath.
Here is his pause for breath.
Here is a pause for breath.

They are not pas­sen­gers.
They have not taken flight.
They were not here.

There has been no crash.
There has been no impact.
There has been no event.

This never happened.