2012
10.26

After work fatigue and I can’t move.
The wind blows the smoke from your cigarette into my face.
The wind lifts my hair around and I’ve stopped trying to tame it.
The wind is the only thing making a sound.
I can see your breath in the air.
We speak in single words and question marks.
Hesitation.
Am I afraid of this or are you?
You mention a party. I pretend I don’t care.
Deep stares into nothing.
Can you feel it?
The moment when I should have already left.

 

 

© Era Bushati, 2012

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