travel with me

There is an dread around airports,
But there is solace in the solitude and seconds.
First, to smoke in airport bathrooms:
there’s a way to do it right.  ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ 
Secondly, the bars. Everywhere.
And frequented by different groups:
Those who run to lose,
or run to find,
And those who run but still miss their flight.
Though we will all confess to the bartender that we “needed this drink, thanks.”
Thirdly, airplane air will humble all of us.
And even though we take the same adventure,
We must also remember that we do not live the same stories.
So watch your mouth.
And fourth, we share this row of sinks,
To reapply makeup, brush teeth, or cry
just a bit.
It’s our lowest, lost in grief and hopelessness,
And those around share in the vulnerability,
And also may pretend you don’t exist.
There is versatility in us all.
And then
Finally Lastly,
you taste the first, true bite of real food.
Though it was dinner in San Francisco,
And it is 6 am in Newark,
it is heaven.
You cannot help but smile
and sneak bites on the express bus home,
Even though the driver said that passengers can’t eat.
I didn’t come this far to only finish here.