when the plane touched the ground, you were there to greet us,
harbouring thoughts and presumptions to match our pictures.
we had a vague idea you sounded different long distance;
that you lived in a town as flat as the sea.
i said that i'd never seen the moon such a beautiful colour
til your mother distilled it, citing the bright lights.
you told me to be afraid
such was the way children played
we laughed in the back of the car, you, me and my sister
and during one routine you made my nose bleed
you sort of apologised
but i don't recall having cried
and i said to the land, i'm not gonna fall to exposure
i'll take all the blame, i'm not gonna fault my composure