"Chicago O'Hare, 2:00 A.M."
Well, there you go. Again. And i am left
To think that love is still a function of
The time two people spend together or
Apart. And here i sit, abandoned in
An airport's long and weak and empty night,
Bored forceless with flourescent crossword chills,
An airport i despise, remembering
That last time i was here, you weren't.
You never were. There goes another plane.
Untouchable, in sight, but never seen
Again. I watch and wonder who's on board.
How close those people are, how meaningless
And why not me? Why not, indeed? Because.
and when you said goodbye (or did you?), i
Was caught up by a Momentary shame
At having failed and not yet lost. i felt
Your Grace, a Lady's Grace, forgiving me
For being such a clod, for saying what
i did not mean, for never saying what
i thought, for thinking it at all. And if,
At last and now, i saw you through this glass
And on your way, my Heart would shout, would beg
To shout my heart, and yours, and i would watch
You out of sight and not pick up a chair
And throw it through the window, not command
Security to let me pass and damn
The X-ray and the rules Out of the way
And stand aside or i'Il blow up the world
Instead i stand and watch you go and play
My part as member of the crowd and lose
My heart; as though i had no right to a-
ny other role and now it's true.
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