joanie’s “diamonds and rust”
echoes in my earbuds
for the seventeenth time
as i sip an ice-cold beer
and remember
the day you left.
while the station’s platform
bustled with travelers
bound for nowhere
you bit your lower lip
and, eyes locked on mine,
asked if i’d be alright.
without missing a beat
i lied, november
gusts tousling your hair,
my frozen smile betraying
nothing before
a last kiss goodbye.
