“Only the name of the airport changes.”
I’ve stopped looking for you
convinced you no longer follow
and though I never knew your face
I just know you’re not there.
Years healed most of the scars
your imaginary wrists
swirling, swirling down the drain
invisible stains on the walls.
And I wonder what ever was:
your impassioned voice on the phone,
keystrokes flickering in the darkness,
a glimpse from inside my mind?
I never believed the pain,
the design across the miles
footsteps still echo on terrazzo
even though you’re not there.