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.


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: