Planes are taking off and leaving,
nothing here is stagnant.
Alone between the noisy walls,
the announcements never end.
Silence is a velvet box.
No white quiet,
No grey voices overhead,
but the crimson of your soothing lines
you packed away with you.
Maybe time will pass without notice.
A couple of calendar pages
and you’ll be on the arrivals board.
Your flight number tattooed
on the palms of my eager hands.
A cinematic hello
and a drive home
under a cerulean sky.
That sounds nothing like how truth sounds.
My optimism is dripping off my cheeks.