The Soundtrack of Airport Goodbyes by Kurt Cole Eidsvig
You have to leave. You have to stay leaving. This is the beauty of airplanes. Notice the way road turns to rivers and hollow veins once you pass the signs for the airport. The highway signs render green/white reminders to the number you gave me, twisted up and sweaty on a balled-up cocktail napkin. I’ve tasted your lipstick on glasses you haven’t even touched yet. I’ve dialed your phone number into a jukebox and remembered what loving meant while I listened to quarters liquefy like brandy in ice. These drinks before us are too shallow to even bother with melting. Instead, I’ll persuade warmth to my mouth as if brandy was your tongue and my airplane wasn’t leaving yet. I’ve watched blond girls imitate you— walking as if they can hear a jukebox, walking like remembering pinball machines. You’re walking away, breathing brandy, and I may never leave.