Standing between closed

elevator doors waiting for a

down version, the

33rd floor surrounds me, is

behind me…earphones are blue toothed

to my phone, they suffocate

sound, usually but…

…not now;

the music has stopped and nothing, I

hear nothing but…

I do, I hear

my heartbeat, a liquid bumping rush through veins

and I think, when was

the last time

I heard my heart,

and then—a flash and a bright pain—I

remembered that

it was a million years ago

this morning

when

I said goodbye to her

bounded by 11th avenue

west 30th and heartbreak, she

got into a yellow cab;

bags in back, a closing door and

I caught a glimpse of her

sandal, then

gone

the cab slid away into a herd

heading south and

now

I’m standing on the 33rd floor

waiting

listening to the heart

I never heard

until I herd her

say

my name the first time…and

then herd it

again

the last time

she

said it.