i'm so tired that i know i'm going to get this all wrong

earlier today i was sitting in a musty airport
i'd just used a few given pounds to wake
the person i'd just left to say things i'd already just said
greedy palpitating words across wires
trying to steal more time to seal the last vestiges of something i'd already sworn wouldn't be this
real
or leave me wondering what kind of vacancy is this
through check points and large steaming cups of coffee
i waited
finally wrote at the top of a blank page in the small almost square notebook i'd been carrying around in my bag all week and hadn't thought for a moment of using:
the worst part is
these past few days have been the happiest . . .
time to stop for the text now
over and across this divide

i've just tried to fall into the useless task of doing my laundry
emptied out all the clothes from my bag onto the floor
every article arrests the memory
a faint scent of
that man no longer in reach of a whisper