The Lounge of No Departures

In the airport bar
he was wearing my eyes;
circles ripped with hurricanes.

The wind reached for my hand,
saw me old,
took contradictions & splashed them
on my brow.

Should I make them valentines;
the trails, the test?

One loves more. One loves less.

This ring we’re in; let them lose, win?

In the airport bar
he was wearing my eyes;
circles ripped with hurricanes

but there was no one left
to leave or land for,
anymore.

Less; just more of less.

7 Comments

    1. Thank you Dorinda so much. It’s been a while since I was properly on WordPress- I hope you are keeping well despite the times πŸ™πŸ™β˜˜οΈβ˜˜οΈπŸ’šπŸ’š

      1. We’re all well here, thank God. I was away a bit myself. Hope to see you around more often πŸ’œπŸ’œ

      1. Oh, okay. Sorry, I wasn’t familiar with the song. I like the technique you used, though. Maybe I’ll take a look at one of my favorite songs to try.

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