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Smoky Restaurant Floor

2007-01-04 9:51 p.m.

"Want" has a way of becoming such a weak and useless word. "Yearn", "desire", "intrigued" and "impassioned" are better but hardly apt. My normal vices had been long abandoned and forgotten. I was intoxicated by her presence.

Momentarily lost in time on the floor of a smoky restaurant discussing life and creativity. My heart growled, hungry for the salt of her skin, yet humbled for the fuller meal.

I'll never dig my way out of this cold cavern she'd once coerced me to fall into. Just ignore the shivers, hoping she'll someday climb down and visit again.

Another airport farewell as if the first song we'd ever danced to. She puts on my favorite band, who I'd stopped playing weeks ago due to wear. After she was gone, it remained, reborn as the scent on the empty pillow beside me.