New Poem.

[majordude]

Being Alone is not a Place

Pages of handwriting and
what keeps coming back

is not me.

But it's not exactly her body either.

Perhaps it's a movie quote
a personal favorite, she whispered

the narrator's twist 
in the back of my mind.

What I keep coming back to
is one good looking night
that replaces the rest.

The smell of rain, asphalt, and

a loss of control;
simple and perfect

the skin of her forearm

an afghan over my body.