I saw her face so clearly.
Amidst all the blurs, the bodies.
The people you'd recognize if you could just
grab a hold of them and shake the mist away.
She smiled, first looking at me, and then to her side.
I think I said something; though I can't recall what.
Even if I could relive that moment what could possibly have been appropriate to say?
I'd yell at her for handling everything so immaturely.
I'd tell her how heavy the guilt weighed on my shoulders.
I'd whisper to her about how cool the breeze was that night,
and how well it paired with the warmth of the bourbon on my tongue.
"Everything is okay," she said.
"Things aren't as bad as you think they are."
I woke up and deeply exhaled my relief.
I went to work.
No comments:
Post a Comment