Unfamiliar faces blend, 
like duty-free whisky.
Geography lessons on digital
Arabica beans before dawn.

Unread messages lie in wait,
for the red-eyed, blue pin-stripe suits.
Nondescript seats welded together,
too close for comfort it seems.

Vacuous glances lacking connection
like wine cellar Wi-Fi down below ground.
Imagine, imagine, departure lounge sounds
bottled as cold, stainless steel grey. 

Invisible baggage weighs heavier
than hushed horizontal rockets outside.
"Any more rubbish?" they ask before the descent
but it's buried too deep inside. 

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