I’m boarding Delta, and it is the end.
The end of two cumulative months
Hidden in professionalism.
A connection too amazing
To admit openly.
I hold my breath during takeoff.
I always think I'm going to explode
In any given second.
During our time together you would tell
Humorous ones, sad ones, uplifting ones.
You liked boiled peanuts and baseball.
Had a sweet tooth.
Your words melted in the warmth of your
Deep blue eyes.
To me, you were the only man who has
With the talent of creating pure happiness
Within myself. And the beauty of your
Spirit never failed me.
I munch on crackers in seat C.
The woman next to me is chatty, so I look
out the window
For refuge. She doesn’t see me cry.
You spoke of your daughter often.
Bright, energetic, and beautiful.
She looks just like you.
Your daughter never knew me, yet I loved
As my own.
You spoke of your wife, a trying
Rooted in young love.
I have seen you cry from her words.
She troubles me, but mostly
Because I envy her.
Why do they always come by with the
Trash bag before I'm finished?
Perhaps in your personal life you are lazy.
A slob. Thoughtless. Insensitive.
All the things that reasonably might chip
Away at how much
I do adore you from afar.
Yet I do not know if you are any of these.
Professional and moral constraint forbids
And even if you are, I realize
I still live for your happiness,
The landing gear lowers, and I'm back in
Almost as if it all never occurred.
Yet I have loved you since. And I
Will love you from now on.
I may not have you, but you have me,
Always and forever.
And that is just as beautiful and sweet
As Georgia itself.