Yesterday
I.
He bent his knees to mine
as my train arrived
and gave me a breakup,
and an ‘i love you’
before he could exhale -
my legs still warm from his body.
It became commonly performed
and recited
as if it were his religion,
the train stop acting as his sanctuary.
The memory still haunts me,
but I move forward
with my face kissing the sky.
II.
Winter is everywhere
and I pave the steps closer
to my shelter,
pacing my breath with musical hums.
I familiarize myself
with the unwelcoming scent
of cat urine
as I turn the door
into the apartment.
Shes lying there
effortlessly composing sentences
with fixed detachment.
Carving my presence
with an emotional landscape
of withdrawal.
Every word she speaks
feels like the end of a sentence.
Isolation sets in,
and she closes the door behind her.
III.
I retreat to the backdoor
of the building
and strike a match
to ignite the cigarette
between my lips.
Laughter
and
words
are exchanged below me
and I recognize her voice.
She never smokes in the back.
I shrug
and remove myself
towards the front of the building
in respect
to her unspoken wish
to avoid me.
I exchange a few breaths
with the air
and retreat back into the place
I cannot call my home.
As my body sinks
into a sea of blankets,
I daydream of a future
where I belong.