Fixed lights overhead
advance and disappear
through fog.
A squall of a cyclone
blasts warmth through
the engines descending
to a runway rolling to a halt.
My stomach twists,
and my heart races
my tongue to knots.
She steps off the plane
her straight golden-brown hair
was shorter than before.
Our eyes met.
We stand in silence
in awe of the other
before closing the distance
for a passionate embrace.

Twitter – @AC0040

(© 2022 AC)

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