an airport encounter
When I first saw you, you were standing in Tullamarine airport, holding a two pound hunk of rose quartz. Prior to my focus landing on your salt water locks and rainforest stare, the stranger I flew 10,000 miles to familiarize with, to remember, a school of other thoughts raced through my mind. Tullamarine? Really? I’m from New York... we only speak Kennedy. My head hurts. Is it from 23 hours with flight attendants? Or 23 hours without...