Excess Baggage

“You’re a really nervous flyer!”

You exclaim.

Barely concealing amusement,

as you watch me

fiddle with my passport,

stare at my visa,

check my watch,

walk in circles,

practice my answers –

name, address, university.

“No way!” I say.

 Immediately defensive.

But then,

I realise

You’re watching,

But you’re not really seeing.

You’re not seeing

My navy passport

That puts me in a different line,

The guard that sits up sharper

As I walk towards him,

The mothers that reach for their children

As I roll past with a suitcase,

The extra time I schedule

For a “random search” and safety scan

Or for questions at Border Control.

You’re not seeing

The effort it takes to pronounce

All my vowels

And keep a smile on my face,

Pretending not to notice,

The girl across the aisle

Who wants a new seat,

Because I make her nervous.