This Moment - 1:52 P.M. August 1, 2010

At this moment a plane is lifting from the ground, giving its heft and weight to the sky, its sharp needle dividing the blue. He slumbers in the belly of the metal bird, his nose whistling a sharp c-note on every exhale. A woman secreted in the belly of another time zone lights a match, throws it down, watches it grow, and says, "let it burn".