First Date Last Date

We don’t travel in the same
circles but we travel in circles
around and around the parts
we know…avoiding the shadows
when our swooping paths
of movement of intention
…when we come across occupy
inhabit the same air for a
minute an hour drinks or
dinner for the purpose of
knowing finding seeking the
end of reserving that side
of the bed from the emptiness
like a cloud of smoke hovering
where I want her to be…I wonder
sometimes—not always but
sometimes after—if she even
met me because I ask I talk I
look for motion for a gesture
toward believing and she
says yes says the words, has
the right movements until we
walk away…this was fun, this
was fun I like you let’s do this
again and I’ll call, I’ll text and then
I do and do again and there is
heavy silence sucking the air
from the moment and maybe
maybe…maybe there is a reply
that I am wonderful, I am amazing
I am all the things I should be
…except right…and I want to ask
but can’t—she’s gone, a deleted
text entry; why not say no no no
then, say it when fresh when
the knife and the expectation
would speed the pain…why
wait what changes what is the
thing that makes now so
different from then and I wish
I knew but it is NYC and that is
what she does and does
and does

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