The seat beside me is empty, so I assign it to you.
You settle in to fill the vacancy so easily.
I sigh, wishing that you were more than the weight of my imagination.
Perhaps then I would whisper to you such utter nonsense,
And you would smile at my deep frivolity
And indulge my questions with nonsensical responses.
The harsh voice of the flight attendant breaks into my drowsy reverie.
I refocus my eyes.
You are simply an empty chair.
The smiling blonde who stands near me
Does not ask whether you'd like to purchase an overpriced soda
Or a glass of wine.
You would have declined, I know.
You used to say that wine is best on rainy days
When the burgundy liquid warms the room
And my face.
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