International Dateline

Traveling west, a day vanishes

somewhere over the Pacific.

Twenty-four hours

sucked into joyous limbo of perhaps,

where mismatched socks are reunited,

losts are found,

and we dance with our maybe loves in borrowed time,

while our earthbound selves kill time,

ticking off to-do lists

until it’s time for tailwinds

to sweep us back to yesterday.