f(l)ight

Lukewarm, thin
your opinion drifts
from your lips
with more push
from the wind
behind your breath
than the weight
of your words
can take flight alone
I pause to decide
respond or retreat
because I’m unsure
if my own inferno
can warm
your sad, soggy
disposition
but you don’t care
you’re on autopilot
and they’re not serving
a hot meal
on this flight
today