Empty

everything seems so empty without you
the closing of a red car door
sealing you off. separate directions. separate lives.
all these changes
discord and discontent meet elated happiness...
ah, pleased to meet you.
waiting on the benches, alone, for the girls to come
can't be seated until the entire party is present
I've always hated that 'rule'
why can't I sit at one of the 15 empty tables?
sip black coffee. people watch.
not have to listen to the very gay black man excitedly tell his Yankee boyfriend
"We from da South, we can make up ahh own words if we WANTU."
not feel as empty because you're not beside me.
you wrap around my thoughts like a ribbon
interrupted. acquainted. distracted. seated. full. yet still empty.
jittery from coffee. excitable with thoughts of you.
keeping my cool. poker faces and art magazines.
Lesbians and assholes.
This is how y'all spend your Saturdays? Really?
None of this really matters. Thoughts come to mind.
Sad librarians. Terminal positions.
Riding elevators-going up
unlike anything else in their pathetic, mundane lives
munching carrots. stoic faces. eyes void of emotion.
They look like I feel without you.
Like a sick child confined inside. Watching butterflies and other beautiful things fly by the window.
Unattainable.
But you have built things that can't be knocked down.
I close my eyes to remember.
Soft hum of the box fan. Soft hum of breathing. Soft hum of you and me.

CDT 09