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