When Nothing Burns

You say it’s nothing,

A meeting that ran late,

An out of battery phone,

An insufficiently taut narrative.

You chuckle too soon,

Blink slower than necessary,

Remember me so as to cradle me.

Draw shifting lines in smoke,

While I pretend the ground ceases to move.

A couple of times,

The truth protruded;

An improper name.

A misplaced time.

A stolen glance that overstays its welcome.

Yet, I convince myself:

Nothing at all.

Perhaps love simply changes over time.

As Freud rightly said,

Sometimes a cigar is just a cigar.

But other times,

it’s the first draw from a fire too fierce to snuff out.

The Pen That Never Runs Dry

Sip & Support