[Also see: The Fireside Poetry Series – Installment 1]
And so another one left.
Two weeks ago?
Left his grey and navy light behind.
Left another tiny hole, next
to all the the other tiny holes.
But this one doesn’t hurt, no.
It’s just a strange dream that lingers,
night after lonely night.
It makes no sense – in such a short time?
But it seems I am one in a very long line.
Queued to steal a space of that touchy mind.
And the girl with the red hair, she
punches your ticket. Can she scare you away?
Can she make him okay.
An instant crush. A sigh
of relief chased by a pang of desire.
Memories that form a navy light choir.
He’ll say hello. Such things happen.
I’ll respond with hi.
For now he’s gone, but I’ll see him tonight.