Kristen de Kline #170 love-bombed

I

you 
love-bombed 
me

with your whispers
      and words

under the sky, falling
and the colour, dangerous

I'm sitting in the airport bar
the woman next to me

is crying,   drinking white wine
she says: it's her son

five days is too short
they're always our babies

II

nothing, you throw at me
lawsuits //  slap on me // charges

sticks,   nothing

a bird dropping glued
onto the right heel

of my Cherry Reds
scuffed at the toe

almost a roset shade

nothing,   sticks

III

scribbled lines on the Jetstar motion sickness bag:

you can't

touch me

now