I wrote a couple stanzas on the back of my transfer ticket
because it brought me to the same place we were 7 months ago,
except these two days contrasted each other in many ways -
similar to the whites of your eyes and the dark chocolate of your iris.

For one, spring is just beginning, which is contrary to when I saw your
smile blossom in the middle of the summer sun. The last time I stepped
foot in that transit booth I knew you were just a simple call away, but
now you're miles beyond my reach both physically and emotionally.

Shopping bags in tow, I left with tiny little trinkets full of life
(just like before) except none of them were you. Nonetheless,
I wrote a couple more stanzas and left a hook in the middle of the chorus
just so I could watch your remains fly away to fulfill its destiny:

a walking poem on the verge of tragedy.

gd