nobody around

creative idea to final reality(13 years of layovers, sitting at the crowded airports, I feel like a scared little girl, in my own little world, I am not them and they are not me, and I haven’t even left America yet…)
who can I talk to
when there is nobody around
who do I laugh to
when there is nobody around
who do I cry to?
going through customs
a brief moment of intimacy
when I am touched
in places I haven’t been
touched at in a
long long time.
the crowds
of nobodies
jostle and bump and nudge and squeeze me
into silent conversations.
a nasal voice
“please have your id and boarding pass ready!”
the lines in Louisville, Chicago, Atlanta, Miami are long
and still
there is
nobody around,
I land
in Haiti.
I see me everywhere,


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