Look of Glass
She spoke; her attention somewhere distant. A glassy look rummaged through scattered explanations. A dialogue recited as a monologue pausing every so often to include my nod of understanding. She seldom left that far off place she'd leave me for and I wondered where she trailed off to, who waited for her there... or what visited her in those moments I lost her.
I suppose I never had her. Her mind, preoccupied by circumstances of opportunity, thirsty for something other than me. Something else gripped her. The echo of me silenced on the journey; it never found her... and all I had left, all that she left, was the scent of a girl who I knew to wander.
I suppose I never had her. Her mind, preoccupied by circumstances of opportunity, thirsty for something other than me. Something else gripped her. The echo of me silenced on the journey; it never found her... and all I had left, all that she left, was the scent of a girl who I knew to wander.