we are navigating
via the trace patterns
of pollens
while
our noses
twitch and send
feedback
to
reference
memories
etched into the
grain
paneling

we hold our palms
/out
\open
to complete
the
descent

-we do not so much
fall
as fail gracefully
from the
sky

whereupon
our
noses
hit the ground
with a accompanying
crumbling
sensation

capillaries collapse
and
familiarity surrenders

....
another landscape
is laid bare
to the tourists
baser
instincts