At the airport a
woman waits for a
someone, The Someone, grey
eyes waiting; we all faceless pass
her expectant brow, and
the sparks shoot from her
eyes to her long-awaited lover
-licking asides elsewhere, I'm ever
eternal told by others
that I'm a cistern
of sweet waters
able and dependable, and so
endless praise and cold
lonely spaces translate: you're stock photos,
an excellent extra, priceless stand-in,
worth a little a little open,
a good swig for the open
road while we all wait at airports
for our lovers.
-r
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