My scarfaced TSA prince
I see you on imvu and
I just want you
Loving
As we talk my
Body aches for you
My heart aches for when we can work
Together
And be together
I pine for your presence
Your love
And touch

The way that you carry yourself
In that CATSA uniform
I see my scarfaced love
Checking passengers for weapons
Oh how I await his touch
Oh how I await is kisses
Then he takes me aside
My dreams come true
I get to feel his touch

The 4 am drive to the airport
Sealed with melancholy and unbarring silence.
Sweaty hands interlocked;
Afraid to let go.
For two hours of staying wide awake wasn't enough to absorb the repercussion we would soon be battling with.
And the new faces are just a mirage, collected stories and memories still imprinted in closed notes; the counted days of our momentary bliss.
The wait never felt like a burden, rather worth the wait to enjoy our last bite of meal.
Tight hugs and kisses, as I walked through the door with my bags and suitcases,
Never thought one day, that was the final draft of our story for five years back.

He sits like he owns the place,
Walks like he’s already won the race.
Professional,
Yet casually.

Grey coat draped over his sure shoulders,
Moves quick and slick unlike boulders.
Swift,
Yet casually.

The black bag sits alone,
As he waits observing on his phone.
Tense,
Yet casually.

He catches a glimpse and chuckles a laugh.
I turn away his face only half.
Knowing,
Yet casually.

He knows something that I don’t.
Pay close attention but I know that you won’t.
Casual
Yet, undetected.

Life, a brief sojourn,
In an unknown airport lobby,
Between an arrival and departure.