like two hammer points in the tiles,
up & down. left & right
trails of saws after them,
to & from. there & here.

at some point our shoes follow
each other out the door,
linked by the ankles, separated
at the stairs, cut with no little
pain but no excessive liberty;
at some point our suitcases kiss
each other goodbye,
foreign hands linked, broken
at the airport, shattered with no excessive
words but no little silence.

but you are still here
two feet away
tapping your hammers into the floor,
trying your shoes on by the toes,
up & down
left & right
to & from
there
&
here.