i'm smelling my skin

and it's 1 am

saw him today

bought him a beer

our usual dance

without the music

there were no excuses masking

our sadness

we were missing each other

already

or I him

at least

and I knew that to be our last meeting

like that

at Lefty's

where I wrote a letter to my father

because tonight it hurt

and my face now buried deep in the pillow

lets me think

and sort the night

and remember that there was no touching

no holding on powell and mason

there never was

with us

work was always in the way

too close

but not tonight

there was nothing holding us back

ourselves

and again that feels like enough

---

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