October 2015



again I leave

the land between our lands

the city where our story lingers

even if I do not see the columns

we leaned against, even if

I do not climb the stairs

of the station to find you

in the crowd.


even if we are far

from the promise we once were

that haze of knowing, in between

these rooms of dust, even if

we don’t sit at a table, even if

I do not cross that street

diagonally, behind you

even if I do not taste

your skin.