Poetry / You, Me and Inbetween

We’ve been apart so long
I keep wondering what we’ll be like
Rewinding back through the memories,
I bite the corner of my lip
As the plane skips against the pavement,
Bringing me back to reality.
I stand, waiting for the others to get their carry-ons
I look down at my bag,
Thinking about what I’m bringing back,
What extra luggage we are going to have to deal with
Hoping that since its small enough to fit under a seat
We can just tuck it away somewhere.
I slip the strap over my shoulder
And shove my thoughts behind me.
Instead, I drag my now bitten nail
Across the seat I lean on,
Etching out your initials,
Then mine,
Into the two-tone grey dappled red fabric.

I want to run, but walk
This in between of moments.
I cannot go back, but I’m not quite there yet.
This long airless hallway leading away from the tarmac
And to you.
Every six steps a new screw in railing
Between the smooth black finger print stained rounded moments
Before reaching the waiting area.

The man with the sign
“wake me up at 9:30”
Choosing to sleep through his in between
And the blond busybody with too much perfume
Choosing to ignore the in between
And sputter her way through on her cell phone,
Not speaking fast enough to get her words out.
Twelve tv screens reporting beginnings and endings of betweens
Until I reach the stairs down to you.

Dragging my now nervous fingers
Down the glass stairwell
Leaving a tell-tale smear,
The finger smudges of my indecision.
It travels from the end of the in between
To the start of when I saw your wide, rain coloured polka dotted, shoulders.
I glance down, going through one last gate
And my shaking fingertips leaving the smooth glass,
Collide with the over-conditioned air.
I adjust my backpack,
Not being able to ignore it
And grin a little
As my eyes outline your features in bold
Against the blur of smiling, crying, overemotional crowd
But you force this in between to last,
Like you want to remember this distance between us
As it closes across the chequered tile.

Seven more black, eight more white
A chess game
But only a hop, skip and a jump away
And I’m already afraid I might step on your toes.
This hug goes from distant to home,
And I slip my bag to the ground and declare checkmate,
And trace ‘I love you’ across your shoulder blades
The v and e intersect with your spine
And you begin to pull away
Look down at me with those blue grey eyes
Speaking “Its good to see you again”
But saying “I don’t know if I’m ready for you yet”.
And my flushed cheeks move away from yours
And collide with the cool air between us.

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