In the air after
him a cologne stings and
brings memories of those who may
know quality but not
where it goes. I have already
known you. Lumbering blackness
in the bending hours of the
day seem to make the street's voices much
louder, shouting as if to say There
isn't much time! Discovering where I come
from while missing where I don't I yearn
less for a place and more for those who
know me best. I glance my
mistrust. That blink means let's not
discuss. That turn says you must
be gentle for entry to be
arranged. I could follow where
anxiety of the unknown beckons
and climb towards that crest of fret
in my chest, but instead smile
at my surroundings, close to
unpleasant prattle of those who should
mean well, feel the glow under the door of
my very smallest room. It is
already fine. It is only a dusting
of gloom.
