11:02 pm . stillness of scent
she waits for a grand
narrative revelation,
a cup of tea made
by cold hands?

she lingers in
the doorway, asking
if i have seen
her glasses lately?

she chokes on
the sunlit dust,
as the windows burn of
city smog, & the birds
go flying overhead
...
lamenting the time
she spent without you.

the nervous stroke of her hand,
two minutes past the hour.

because time was just a measure
from the place
she saw you last.

she pulled the covers
over her heart,
& asked it to
stop beating.

nostalgia . uncertainty