In the airport of lost conversations,
someone wheels a suitcase, overstuffed.
It drips with last words unsaid,
with half-hugged farewells,
with “I’ll call you” lies and teary almosts.
Security scans it, finds nothing but echoes.
They let it through.
In the airport of lost conversations,
someone wheels a suitcase, overstuffed.
It drips with last words unsaid,
with half-hugged farewells,
with “I’ll call you” lies and teary almosts.
Security scans it, finds nothing but echoes.
They let it through.