she walks down the sidewalk as she processes
the last hour on the phone
and replays every moment
every syllable
every change of tone
her face grows ever more still
as the tears track down
and she feels her heart begin to calcify
and begin the metamorphosis to stone
but is this the end or just an intermission?
she has not read the playbill
so she cannot say
but it feels like a death she mutters in her head
and so perhaps not another resurrection moment
at least not today
perhaps though if she wanders down to that coffeeshop
just maybe there will be an open table just for her
and she’ll fill up the pages of her notebook
with all the lines that burning fill her mind
and then with the ashes of their bonfire
her grief will float with the breeze to heaven’s door
she hopes so oh she hopes so
for she can’t take this anymore