plaid - this city

i will not fall in love with any part of you;
your teeth or your eyes or your muscle's sinew.
i will not fall in love with your nose or your smile.
i will not fall in love with your current lifestyle.
i will not fall in love with your family or house,
or the curve of your lips and the shape of your mouth.
i will not fall in love with the stories you share.
i will not fall in love with the wind in your hair.
i will not fall in love with the pictures you took,
or the thoughts we both share when you give me that look.
i will not fall in love with who you used to be,
or who you are now, after knowing me.
i will not fall in love with your neck and your voice.
i will not fall in love with you, given the choice.
i will not fall in love with your bones and your skin.
i will not fall in love with the places you've been.
i will not fall in love, because love is blind,
but not deaf to the words that you left behind.

hear that? listen:

snap.

relay

sitting in an airport for what will eventually be six hours
waiting for a flight, delayed because the plane
was falling apart.

listening to everyone around me
speak a language i can understand
but cannot speak.

chicken fingers,
cold and untouched,
in a coffee cup,
waiting

for me.

(everyone is waiting for something, huh?)