My never Friend

already, in the waning shine of this ephemeral season

i see the absences where they do not exist

now fattening

now so void where this stranger was once light.

i imagine that

her hologram shimmers in the

dusty corners.

they are stacked to her knees in pages

which rustle, gentle and silent, out our doorway.

her turned shoulder, a whisper by

her hair, the

hum of her laughter—

imperceptible

low and steady

—stumble silver down our stairwell.

lying awake now, i swill

my black and lonely theory

listen as her manners, eternally fading,

call me sweet

promise me a lamppost in a city i’ll live

wedge the year between us

into the perfect gap of her empty bed.

who is left now?

in this world i care too little to speak first

while the remnants share a sandwich, sign their names

in this world i watch from the top bunk

paralyzed in my skeleton

ankles trembling in their unemployment.

but awaking, i learn

no emptiness is meant for her, not this time, and

i do not repeat myself.

the years multiply

the trees turn

the remnants and i leave this room.

when she finally arrives through the doorway,

i return her wrinkled smile to her.

after all this time it

wasn't mine to save.