at the airport
September 16, 2016 § 1 Comment
black glasses covering dark brown eyes,
curly hair reaching beneath your ear,
we exchange glances
like we’ve met before,
and speak silently in the space between us,
I see you seeing me,
feeling all jumpy and jittery
and when you glance away,
it becomes my turn to look your way:
wishing and hoping
that you know I can see you too.
you arrive with your coffee,
as I have before you
wondering: did you order the cappuccino too?
–size small with a water bottle
because airport prices are always so high–
or did you order extra espresso
to stay awake for the long flight?
I wonder if you see me
as I write to you now,
I hope you do,
because I’m slipping this note to you.