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Ginger Something

de Chris Cheek

The look in your eyes
is barely recognizable;
or so it seems to be
attracted to
everything
within reach of a whisper.
Srain your ears,
just to hear them speak.

Seconds slip by,
words turn into wounds;
Flling into
every piece of you

Two times at night
and double that on the weekends.
I could tear my hands across your back and still hear you scream...
Goodbye Susan.
Hope you had fun.
I never intended any of this to happen.

Yet I still recall the smell of your car last fall
and how it felt to be close to you.

The slant of your smile
is only noticed by the line;
or so it seems to be
attracted to
anything
between here and there.
I might not redraw
the fragile lines of Seattle

Minutes pass by
settling the wounds.
Tripping into
every inch of you.

Goodbye Susan

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