“I’ll text you in Austin,”
you say,
both of us loving to fly—-
airports being the peak liminal space,
you say
everywhere’s a liminal space
is my retort
your body’s a liminal space
I want to stay forever,
so you text me in Austin:
your flight was delayed
your absence, I can only pray,
is liminal, too
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Everything’s a liminal space, for sure. All rooms are hallways.