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