I waited at the airport as I said I would.
I sunk into the driver’s seat,
tapping the steering wheel to New Found Glory.
She said she’d touch down
before the sun slipped away for the evening.
Planes come and go,
but on none did I feel her presence.
But the darkness fell as thick as thieves
as time drew out an answer to a question
I didn’t want to know.
The rearview mirror fades the light of hope I’d
hoped would guide me home.
I guess this means it’s over.
Or, I’m at the wrong fucking airport.
The latter was confirmed
when she whipped into the parking space beside me,
asking me where I’d been.
I said sweet nothings through kisses.

(© 2022 AC)

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