Monday, January 16, 2006

you leave without a backward
glance, brushing me off
your heart like water from
a stone

somewhere amidst the lamplit
corner tables you imagine there is an
ashtray full of the things
you and i knew-

bottlecaps and cigarette
butts, teabags of
newsprint and broken
plastic spoons

i used to hate goodbyes
before i met you
i knew the brightness of
your laughter before
you taught me the thickness
of your walls

i like to draw sunlit things
on your blankness sometimes,
tracing a memory of a butterfly
orange i once knew

Mina at 8:57 PM