terminal c

calendar pages fall slow motion.
I pass the time in a frenzied run.
one day composed of punctuation,
the next divided by long equations.
I wear a face in terminal c,
will it help? will it put you at ease?
each step you take is farther from me.
will you come back? will you fall in the sea?
I look out, breath on the window.
words appear you wrote long ago.
message left to let me know
I shouldn't fear these years alone.

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