Poem on a Paper Aeroplane

She danced all night and suddenly
it was all about being
loved like a woman ought
and I thought I would die
of gin and adoration, I thought
if only I could freeze this dance
into a loop, carve it out of whitefaced
time and paste it into a sea of brown,
if only the earth permitted the holding
of hands across the line, heroes and grandkids
would be born, but it was just a Berlin night
and the earth kept spinning, drunk off her axis
that if it weren’t for fucking gravity, she could fucking
love the sun again.



Comments (4) left to “Poem on a Paper Aeroplane”

  1. amir wrote:

    u mad fuckin picece of shit get the fuck out of here and tore ur fuckin poem

  2. radhika wrote:

    u hav a neat and concise way of conveying hard hitting thoughts

  3. Suzan wrote:

    Hello Kyla,

    I’ve been reading your poems for over two years now and I love your work more than Sylvia Plath and Christina Rossetti. I hope you publish your poetry in a book someday because I’d be the first one lined up to buy it.

  4. rahul wrote:

    hallooooooooooooooooooo

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