one deep inhalation yields
several timed releases
of exhaustion, irritation,
desperation for greyhound
to approach the fume filled gate.
there's nothing here that shows
the time,
i check my wrist, though it's bare,
fumble through my purse,
eat another mint--
i think about chatting
with the fidgeting woman
next to me,
but i don't,
i just breathe,
counting seconds,
one (in),
two (out),
three (in, and hold,
then out).
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