Three beers into the conversation...
Three beers into the conversation, I acknowledge that I am lost. Every trace of dignity I once had is now a quaint metaphor for a bygone age. Every obscure reference now raises a blank stare, not even the feigned recognition of an hour ago. I am, if I’m to believe Mapquest, approximately nowhere, which leaves me adjacent to nowhere else, which leaves me no closer to my destination, which is... undefined. We rehearsed our hurried goodbyes over and over again but ultimately never acted. Instead, when the cameras finally rolled, we stared into skyscraper starlight and turned away from each other’s tears.
Three beers into the conversation, I acknowledge that I am lost. Every trace of dignity I once had is now a quaint metaphor for a bygone age. Every obscure reference now raises a blank stare, not even the feigned recognition of an hour ago. I am, if I’m to believe Mapquest, approximately nowhere, which leaves me adjacent to nowhere else, which leaves me no closer to my destination, which is... undefined. We rehearsed our hurried goodbyes over and over again but ultimately never acted. Instead, when the cameras finally rolled, we stared into skyscraper starlight and turned away from each other’s tears.
posted by extraspecialbitter at 2:59 PM
3 Comments:
yeah, but recognition of that sort never fades. neither does love, my deeply feeling friend. on any side.
winter drizzle --
an old girlfriend pretends
not to recognize me
After
after the long last goodbye-
haiku after haiku
after haiku
Post a Comment
<< Home