2011-06-06
way out here
I search the empty parking lot for a breath I misplaced. I search the wind for a name I used to taste.
Everyone is gone, everyone is gone.
I sit at the diner counter and play with the radio. I tune the static and hold it close to my heart. I am so afraid of the afternoons, the way they slowly fade into evening. And then into a night without stars or breath.