Airport Meeting

In bare 3D we embraced, then strolled
to the food court, dreamy, so moony
we forgot to pay for our coffee;
so stirred we forgot to drink.
We lounged at a small round table,
our eyes subtly traveling each other.
Chattered distractedly as mysteries
unraveled into galvanic air.

Remembering how we met,
how long ago and the longing…
How we wrote and wrote, then, soon after,
picked up the phone,
and we spoke and spoke and spoke
like a bicycle spoke’s revolutions.

So easy to believe we’d been seeded
in an ordered kind cosmos
with suns and moons that revolve
with intention or destiny—and love
that unfolds from its ticking.
And on this day we faced each other
and finally spoke up close,
across a speckled table
in the Manchester Airport. Time
dissolved as attendants
blurred like ghosts, one emerging
with my lost luggage.

Our parking meter was running out;
we had to leave.
You detoured, paid for our coffee
with apologies, and I watched you move
gracefully in your black clothes
and matching curls. You could’ve been
dressed for an art gallery or a funeral in summer.

We wheeled my luggage
through the heated lot,
carrying all our hope,
as our fingers sweated salt
and fear shimmied our spines
through our hearts and throats.
Threw my bags in the trunk,
slid into the front seat, and I touched
your knee and squeezed, then eased my hand
just a little, up your thigh.
Your eyes shimmered as you smiled
and switched on the ignition.

Koss, a queer writer and artist, has been published in The Cincinnati Review, Hobart, Spillway, Spoon River Poetry Review (forthcoming), Exquisite Corpse, and many other journals. She also has work forthcoming in Best Small Fictions 2020 and her book, One for Sorrow, published by Negative Capability Press, is due out in early 2021. Find her on Twitter  (@Koss51209969), Instagram (@koss_singular), or her website at http://koss-works.com.

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