the evening sky is one color of gray
it stretches out to the outlines of horizons
the roofs of houses and the shapes of trees
the negative space around this earthbound life
beneath it i wait-
minutes sweat and swell,
a swipe at the forehead
and a fluttering of the shirt
to keep things from sticking-
for some reason,
i can remember now clearly
faces i hadn’t seen in years
i can almost hear their voices
plaintive nasal whine of one
enthusiastic shout of another
but there are no words that they shape around
and no sentences to build a story
of note or significance to me.
faces and voices crowd
without touching the deeper me
dry and brittle eggshells
long absent of a yolk.
-i sigh, and think:
tonight
it will not rain
and i will sit here
uncomfortable in a film
of only me.
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