She woke up trouble—
    a week away from reality,
    unsolicited photos,

    plans plotted mid-thought, straight toward mischief.

My phone buzzes relentlessly,
    messages landing
    one after another,

    cabin heat climbing fast…

    past comfortable cruising altitude.

She asks me to book today,
    Atlanta calling,
    promising flights
    I'd hop on immediately—

    if only my dog-sitter weren't landing Thursday.

And just when I think I'm safe,
    she doubles down:

    sending screenshots,
         flight numbers,
      DFW arrival times,
        for next Monday—

    a threat disguised as fantasy…

    or maybe fantasy disguised as threat.

I'm seatbelt-tight in reality,
         achingly responsible,
       but she circles closer,
          playfully dangerous,
        waiting for clearance,

    taunting me to switch on the runway lights.

So today—
    I hold steady,
    staring at the sky,

    hoping (secretly) that next Monday she decides to land.

Because with her,
    Temptation Airlines is always boarding…

    and I’m permanently on standby.