LXXIV | Some Apology

❦

Keep it simple,
I imagine Asher telling me.

So I write a short note:

Please meet me
at your favourite place.

Slide it under her closed door
after my bath.

I squat there
staring at the uneven scratches

covering the bottom half

of the door.

Then I wait
on the cold metal bench

(it's even colder at night)

for Tammie.

There's no sound of crickets.

There would be
if this is a real garden.

Only a faint thrum.
(Generator.)

Faint whispering.
(Shifting leaves.)

I hear bedroom doors closing
behind me.

The rowan trees are dark.

Unlit.

The chessboard flowers
nearby glow though.

Someone's stuck a lightstick
in the ground
next to it.

(Or maybe it was there
all along.)

I don't come here

at night.

It's cold.
I'm starting to shiver.

I'm starting to think

Tammie won't coming.

My throat fills with tissue quickly
until I want to retch.

I close my eyes,

wet my mouth.

Swallow.

No one comes.

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