6:14 pm . phantasm
enter the room
swishing my satin skirt,
pointing my shoe towards
the earth. hope
that you can see
my hands have
nothing to do.

close my eyes,
take in the scent
of cheap cigars.
the coolness of
my old perfume.

your tweed hat, always
rough to the touch,
rests in an armchair,
fading under a layer
of dust & disregard.

i might be that hat.

your curtains shiver in
the southern winds, they
flutter like a dreamless apparition.
i catch a glimpse of grey outside,
an endless stream of white paper
swims along the scene. i begin to
wonder, did i ever tear up that letter
you sent to me in sleeping? did i leave it
on my window sill? waiting for the storm
to toss you away?

the gloss of the floor,
the emptiness of the room.
my footsteps tracing lonely circles
where maybe i'd danced with you before.
where maybe i'd paced while waiting.
& maybe i'm still waiting now.

sometimes i dream that i have missed you
but when i wake
i cannot see your face.

nostalgia . uncertainty