"night is falling to the ground"

"composite sketches"

i try to remember your face
i try, but it's gone
i look for your image in my head
and i only conjure up blank space

i watch the traffic running through white center, i'm watching, and
all i can remember is the way you light your cigarettes
there is nothing that will get it back
even should i run into you downtown
a quick word, and you'll return to smoke

you'll stay in the compartment
where i keep those i can't take with me
a tiny room from which you'll leak into my poems
you'll join that noisy crowd of composite sketches
and breathe, you'll breathe out like wine

I don't like this as much as I did after I wrote it, but there it is. This could be, and probably is, about a lot of people. No one specific. I wrote two things today that won't be appearing here anytime soon. They are called "the agony" and "puget sound lovers".