"It's so beautiful here," she says,
"This moment now and this moment, now."
And I never thought I would find her here:
Flannel and satin, my four walls transformed.
But she's looking at me, straight to center,
No room at all for any other thought.
And I know I don't want this, oh, I swear I don't want this.
There's a reason not to want this but I forgot.
In the terminal she sleeps on my shoulder,
Hair falling forward, mouth all askew.
Fluorescent announcements beat their wings overhead:
"Passengers missing, we're looking for you."
And she dreams through the noise, her weight against me,
Maybe it means nothing, maybe it means nothing,
Maybe it means nothing, but I'm afraid to move.