1:57 AM

1:57 AM

I step onto the moon-bleached asphalt.

And I close your car door

Like the frayed cover of a book with no ending

Opened too many times,

Whose pages are yellowed and folded and ink-stained;

Whose owner looks time after agonizing time,

Hunting for something he knows is not there.

The frozen breeze purls through my thin t-shirt

And I want to be in the car with you.

I am too tired, I think, and lose my track of mind

In the waxy green leaves varnished with streetlight.

I feel it again and it coaxes goosebumps

Out of hot skin and muddied soul.

When I look up, I watch your car disappear into the trees;

Its hum is a final breath

And its taillights the retreating, scarlet eyes of a primordial creature

Perhaps better left unprovoked.

Untouched.

I step inside

And listen for the echoes of what hadn’t been.

They are not loud enough to hear.

Somewhere, something happened;

Not here. Not tonight.

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