Slake my thirst

a bead of blood
pushed up from the crack in my lower lip.
i covered it with my top lip, and tasted the metallic salt.
fell asleep.
i awoke
feeling tired, feeling weird.
we flew in our tin can, me crushed to the window by the obese man from indiana,
and i thought about water.
and i thought about the plastic bag holding my dangerous lipgloss,
recessed too far out of reach.
in a differetn zipcode, behind obese dude and over two rows in the overhead compartment.
surprised to find i had the window seat...preplanning is so great sometimes.
hot, cold, forced air ladened with germs.
too tired to be grossed out.
bunched my furry vest under my head and dove into a dream.
when my body is moving through space faster than it should at rest, the dreams come in sideways, with the movie reel set crooked.
a distant baby screams, and i remember being unable to speak, unable to comprehend the reason behind the stabbing pain in my ears.
in my dream my ears pop, and i can rest, and the baby can rest.
we all sleep like sweaty sardines, flying away from morning.
the cloak of excitement has become heavy and warm.
the stale air makes me drowsy with too much carbon dioxide.
then, i feel it.
the obese man settling into his seat, oozing his flesh and warmth over my arm.
i turn into a ball, tucking my feet in and burying my head into my makeshift pillow.
and then a voice says, "wehwcome two san diewgo."
and i rub the sleep out of my eyes, because i might see someone i am not ready to meet.
not yet, with four hours of sleep, bad breath, and bloodshot eyes.