It's been a while since I posted. Some things have changed for me. Some things have stayed the same. I've said goodbye to someone very special. She lives on the other side of the country now. We're wonderful friends. I'll miss her. Maybe someday we'll see each other again.

This is for her.

Dishes

I left the dishes unwashed to prove that you existed.
Forty-seven hours after you take flight,
the oatmeal will still stick to the bowl -
translucent plastic perfectly marred with wet grain
that touched a spoon that passed your lips.

The scarred teflon pot that we
poisoned ourselves with making tea
will sit on the stove, still holding the last
moist moments we shared at night.
Two cups left with deflated bags
of leaves shredded
then boiled like memories
drained of their essence.

You cleaned your room so well
but your scent stayed behind,
familiar and lasting,
like the bluish image of your body
in the New Brunswick street lights,
seeping through the window of
our shared room.
I didn't look forward
to coming home to just
that empty mattress.

I stood at the edge of the train platform
to remind myself of the things
that can tear me out of the world -
metal beats bone, tears flesh.
But really, I like feeling like
I'm cheating death.
Beating time at its own game,
feeling the breeze in my hair
as the NJ Transit screams past.

International travel made you
paranoid, so you pulled your bag closer
so it leaned against your calf.
We held onto a kiss as the train screeched.
Doors open, doors close,
open jaws to take you away .
I watched you through tinted windows,
and waved goodbye to your outline.

3/7/05
For Robin