The years have done little to change your features.
A spattering more lines around your hazel eyes, deftly covered.
Those eyes won’t even look at me now.
Locked to the flashing digital board as flights roll in.
You clutch the plastic handle to your pink duffel bag,
Your pale lips a grim line, your hazel eyes spiderwebbed
with bloodshot veins, surrounded by exhausted bags.
We haven’t spoken for minutes, watching the hordes of people
As they board, embark, fly away into the morning sun, hopefully to return.
It lay unspoken between us, writhing and twisting in the space.
Crawling between our hands, prying our fingers away from each other.
Black and cruel, ticking forward methodically.
How badly we both need you to stay here with me,
But dreams called you away to the Redwood coast.
The woman’s voice calls over the speakers.
Your plane has arrived. Others pause to hear, and continue walking.
I feel my stomach freeze, plummet, and watch a sob you try to hide.
We turn, smile, hug, kiss, numb. You fix your raven’s nest of a hair style.
A half ponytail, leaving most of your locks away from the hold.
It falls across your face as you pick up your duffel bag.
I watch every step of your walk,
And you never once turn around to face me.
But my gaze doesn’t leave you
Until you merge with the crowd and disappear.