Back room of the library
watching him make tea

out of the corner of my eye
I watch them walk in-
Six people i used to know-
There in the other room-
two couples.
One dreaming of a time when he isn't alone,
but stuck in the present.
And one

who used to love me

I turn back,
make my own tea
and, in letting the water heat, turn back

He's sitting alone at a computer.
I watch a once familiar face
peel herself from her lover
and walk into this room.

the conversation is heavy,
barely meant for me
but i can read between the lines
her subject is apparent

"she's gone"
her eyes whisper to me

the latter half of that is a dare
just like old times-
saying,"find her" or," don't"
for once, i can't tell
her preference toward my action

i hope it's the latter
it has to be

But her eyes reveal nothing

I turn back,
continue to forget
those memories

but mix some tears
with my tea
remembering everything




©Brandon Webb
2012