So many faces, but none of them is you.
You know this feeling of the crowd anonymously many
And the voices I want to Shazam, for none of them is yours.
My plane is late again, and this pain lingers on
Like a foul smell in the air. I wish to be airborne
That I know you’re not a car ride away
That I’d know that I can’t hold you for good reasons
That the sword may go through the heart and kill me
Than linger over my chest like a purgatory leading to hell.
The pain will come, the pain will run as long as I’m not near holding you here, kissing you there, telling you that, whispering this, listening to those, holding you close.
But for now I’m at the gate, and the plane’s late.
I’m looking out the window to where you are, and I can’t go there, I can’t see you here.
So many faces, so many voices but I’m steeped in the silence and absence of you.
I’m dreaming of a melody
Pulling me from sleep’s safe haven.
“Ding ding la-la ding” it sings
And my eyes seek the screen to swipe-to-snooze
But then the phone rings:
“Your lift is here sir”
Quick, throw my underwear off,
Rush, pee, Brush
Turn the shower knob to wash
It’s cold! It’s hot! Too cold, not quite hot. Ok
Gel on the face cloth
Scrub, scrub, counting seconds in my head.
Rush, rush. Lotion. Deodorant.
Throw on my gear in haphazard layers.
No belt, won’t do my laces.
Rush, rush: I just can’t miss this flight home!
– I –
Alu tube wings stretched on the ground,
Eyes turned outside to the turbine’s sound.
Then the dash,
And in a flash
We are happy birds casting disdain on the ground
– II –
Little littered specks amidst human nests
Without a rustle just lying on their breasts.
Each time I stare in wonder
Of what thoughts they ponder
These birds with human beings in their chests.
– III –
What’s that tremor? What does that light mean?
Why are we tilting? Why the sudden lean?
Why’s my heart with Vettel?
My palms a morning petal?
Love, hold me as we traverse this blue screen.