My body leaves my soul
Behind in a airport waiting room
My sorrow fossilized
By the snow choked cold
I rush to write it's
Obituary, only to find
I have left pen and
Paper behind
I am reduced to
digitizing my exile
My voice an
Unplayable audio file
Tourists roam around,
Their camera phone set on
Stun, their flashes cutting
Through my silence
Planes rush around
On the almost wet runway
The screeching tires
Drowning out my screams
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