C

make space for her to sit
this mirage that's haunting me

C is a creature of hallway glances. C is the look that gets stolen back. The soft hair on the nape of the neck, parted lips and the moving landscape out the window. The warm glow of faint sadness. C is the churn of breath at night. Hard softness, penitence and authority. C is the hotel room knock that never comes. The shape of longing.

C comes and comes in new faces. The shallowness of the words between us betrays the heaviness of the air around them. C isn't for takers but only for givers. C isn't for havers.

And you go down her trail of breadcrumbs and find the digital artifacts of her first youth where her girlishness made a mark across the face of time, you see the cool boyfriend and the hickey on his neck. And you wish you could have been there, wish you were at the same bars and the same life as that hickey. 

~ ~ traverse the timezone>> ~ ~

~ ~ traverse the timezone>> ~ ~

~ ~ traverse the timezone>> ~ ~