15,000 feet, 

the return

from a taste of home.

the sea salt kick

of the wind 

on my skin,

the fading stain

of your kiss,

fading fast.

waves 

crash permanently 

in the background.

silent,

always there.

 

688.4 miles

of anticipation.

of closed lids

in sin city,

and tobacco perfume.

vegas lights wishing me

a safe drive and 

swift return.

flat desert paves way 

and at last,

i am home.

 

seeing you again, 

was expected,

unexpected. 

if anything it felt as if

you didn't exist 

anymore.

a figment 

of my imagination

and my desperate cling to reality. 

your face,

your long,

tangled brown hair

that so often

covered your

thoughts as well as

your eyes and lips

feelt like home.

 

whether it's the silver

in your nose,

or your cigarette smile,

you feel like home.

a home 

i'm not ready for.

not yet.

 

so after tangled legs

and

stolen kisses

in your coffee colored

strands,

after walking back,

and when time's run out,

after holding

hands,

i turn and 

get back on

my bird to nowhere.

headed east 

in this flying cab, 

starts the wait.

i'm coming back.