and he lays there on his bed

regretting that he didn’t get to see her

through the lenses of his camera

or once again have her all to himself

 

sitting right across from him

close enough that he could smell her perfume

and see the light makeup she had on

in the ambience of a bookshop

 

she’s gone now

and days later he feels a loss

 

he won’t get to hear her read poetry

or watch as she drifts off into her thoughts

leaving the world in her wake

 

her bony shoulders

her elating smile

 

he wishes he got to talk to her one more time

to ask what she made of their only date

what her expectations were

and how he measured up

 

he wanted to tell her

how bigger than life she sometimes was

and at the same time so ordinary

getting drunk and saying shit

reeking of promise and booze

 

she’s gone now

on her way to where she’s supposed to be

 

he feels a loss

a loss that’s hard to place