a general barrier.

you are the tarmac
and
the airplane lifting off.

the rip of the engine,
pressured air,
hundreds of degrees,
as you push off from yourself.

are there passengers?
children looking out the
windows of your eyes;
seeing for the first time,
a horizon the edge of a circle.

yes, they look from you.

but also there are airtraffickers
standing with cushioned heels
on your grounded half.
the workmen, carting luggage,
guiding the split professionally.

the inhabitants of this divide
hardly comprehend
that where one plane takes off,
another lands.