Vespers.

Couples curled on the few patches of grass,
sharing homes with roosting pigeons.

There is no shame in a city like this.

We will sit three feet away
from each other for hours, neither
making a bold enough move.
I will imagine our life together and he
will listen closer to his music. We'll leave
together, but not for the same place.
My arms are open for him.
He is three feet away and will not move
any closer.

I try to smile honestly
because I know that it is beautiful
and I know there is a difference but it is so hard
when you have left me,
so full of sadness.

So I am still learning how to forget about you,
but everything here is yours. You would have
loved it, maybe even loved me,
loved who it has made me become.

I am not in love with you, but I miss what we had.
I hope you are better than the last
time I saw you. I hope you are on your way
somewhere good. And yes,
I hope you miss me or at least
think about me from time to time.

Your birthday is coming up.
The streets are wet and empty.
Things are starting to smell of mildew
and that doesn't make me want you any less.

I want to feel myself in your arms.
It is winter and the flowers are
struggling to grow. I have forgotten how
to tell you I love you I love you I love you
I love you.

from my journal