"World Travelers"
by, Erica Jacobs
I think I pack light,
I don’t.
I say I’m an easy traveler,
I’m not.
If I could squeeze
my insecurities,
pained sensuality,
confusion about unconditional love
into that 3oz. bottle,
would you fly with me?
I’ll happily
x-ray my belongings.
Everything is on this table,
for you to see.
I have nothing to hide.
I will remove my shoes,
necklace,
watch.
I will show you,
my dislike for dog hair,
my fear you will cheat
on me.
My jealous streak.
I can scan that, too.
I want you to see
everything.
But you see...
I am afraid,
you want to check your bags,
underneath,
where I can’t see them.
Where dark, deceptive worlds dwell—
deep pockets of infidelity,
hidden zippers of contingent love,
duct taped, beat up boxes
of unresolved issues.
I don’t pack light.
I am an uneasy traveler,
and, but, also,
I am easy to love.
I know what to do,
should the contents of our commitment,
shift during flight.
Come fly with me.
Let us keep our baggage close.
Let it not out of our sight.
Because...
hope waits for no one,
in Lost Luggage.
Wholeheartedly,
Erica