Thirty years ago
somewhere
in New Mexico.
It’s wintertime.
The phone booth glass
is cool and wet against
my forehead,

hand to breast
******* the scented
swatch you gave me,
lace fringed lavender,
sublime.

Like all that is
perfect in the world,
every inhalation
a burst of euphoria
played out across
the inside of my eyelids,
drifting,

I see the sun in
your hair through
half closed drapes,
skin as soft as your breath,
ecstasy in your eyes,
the fragileness of your being
pale and pink,
ruffled frills in shafts of
broken light

Hello?

Don’t hang up, please..

I’m begging you

A car honks, the wind blows.
I wipe a sniffle away with
your scent,
now every breath
I take is you.

Are you there?

I can hear you breathing..

silence

I draw a heart on the glass
and then self-consciously
wipe it away

silence

a sigh

and you speak

You hurt me

I know, I’m sorry
  I didn’t want it
to turn out that way
I was afraid
and now I can’t stop thinking about you.

  Fringe of lace
against my nose
eyes closed

Don’t call here anymore
Don’t ever call here anymore

silence

minutes

A voice on the line says

Sir your party has hung up..

..Sir?

I know…. I know…

I hang up the phone

I pull my collar up
around my ears
and step into the night

A little piece of you goes
with me in my pocket

I wonder will
the scent last forever.