She watched his lips move through glass

Dark Side of the Lens

An engraved lighter dropped down his elevator shaft
but there was always someone at the ready,
with flickers of light –
burning embers of suggestion

She wore a pair of fake frames then
disguises,
her favorite thing
she stared at him across the counter
like some starstruck lover just hanging on

every
single
word

The ink stains were invisible
art scars from a civility war
she wore fake vows, too
he could see she was already half-way-gone

The wind there was colder than any she’d known before
her fingers numbed as she sat outside
flicking ashes
and denials

Into the snow

She watched his lips move through glass

In all this isolation
she fades backward
into the before
into the reverie of memory

If she had numbers to press
she’d call his name
invite him out on a law-breaker’s drive
ask him to share song selections
and silent forgiveness

Would he laugh at her real today frames
she quit smoking
but not denying
her letters are all still o’s without x’s

And she’s still got the loneliest eyes he’ll ever meet

But hey
she could never change his mind now
so don’t think twice
even if it’s not all right

He’s already forgotten how she looks in this kind of light