Long lost friend

I see you through the glass, playing the piano and singing in tones of lament.
Plan your emotions like some bittersweet soap opera, through the house we can feel your presense.
Long lost friend, stranded at the airport with a million exaggerated stories to tell.
How beautiful was your garden before you abandoned it?
How sarcastic was your existance?
Pools empty and warm, though noone swims there.
Our very own corridor spider torn apart by airport staff, send a piece to the museum.
Long lost friend, loving only your blue piano, and making sorrowful music for pathetic soap operas.
I see you through the glass behind the main characters and their passing dramas.
I hear your notes when my climb is steep and disoriented.
Dehydrated, when is your next flight?
The pools await like an empty paradise, time steals joy, long lost friend.
Will we meet again awkwardly?
Searching in our tired minds for things to talk about, attempting to relate our lives as if we had something in common. Send a piece to the museum.
Indeed. We´ll savour accounts of airport adventures. Riding your voice as it rises and falls, the details are as useless as yesterday. And beauty forgets the past until it fades.
So play your music and we´ll listen, to all those hearts too heavy to board- a moments mercy.
Leave soap operas for the old, when your pain is real and felt in younger flesh.