will ever enter this building
as a student, one of the last
times i will ponder which
room you are in, which
elevator you are taking.
whether it was you who
left their number
on my locker.
it's funny the people you meet at the crossroads of big decisions; the ones who make you think harder, slower, who take one look at you & reciprocate regrets. like the man on the beach with avid eyes, swatting flies with his branch of promises. the office ladies at high school, with their idle talk & quick responses. the barista who is either an expert flirt or too quirky for his own good. the boy who was in my design class last semester, who has a fixation on miniature trees. it is too much to take on at once.
i should be op-shopping right now,
looking for you between the racks
of polyester trench coats, slacks
made of well-worn corduory. i
should not be here, procrastinating
my existence simply because it is
the easiest, most fulfilling way
to pass the time. all dolled up
& reading a madwoman's tale,
acting so delighted & shy
it's enough to make a girl
stand down & count her
errors in self-
sympathy
it's enough, it's all enough. what day
does this change? in carparks, with
cityskylines, promises of new york &
mexico. cars that break down every
hundred miles. there is no resolution,
in lingering looks that linger too long.