back at it.

Unlike the hole in my brain, the words sit gently above my eyes.

Thinking of you, thinking of us, thinking of me.

No new words to say, nothing new to hear.

Her scent still lingers on the street where we first met.

Her eyes still stare into my soul, whole and blind.

Silver teeth bite into a half smile dressed with a cigarette.

The branches shiver while our shadows dance.

I want to love you again, under the sun’s early morning dawn.