distorted solo piano.
We were holding pencils. From the corner of my eye I saw a yellow light flash for a second. I didn’t bother to check what it was.
You said, “See that woman over there? Between the trees?”
I looked and I saw two wrinkled hands wringing.
I said, “I am anxious.”
And you said nothing.
*
What you didn’t realise is that she had been there forever. Waving.
Both of you were waiting for me to react swiftly and appropriately.
I said, “I’ll go see what she wants.”
You were busy drawing, the graphite scratching away.
*
You drew me in your picture with her beckoning in the distance.
Your words were coming through her face, well — you were the author of that face.
When I approached her she said, “I’m glad you made it all the way here.”
She smelled of crumpled paper.
I said, “What now?”
She said, “Nothing. That’s it.”
*
And you said, “I might erase you from this drawing. I’m not sure, I haven’t made up my mind yet. You’ll wane away rapidly.”
You looked giddy and I did think I was about to disappear.
*
And she had said something else.
After she’d said, ‘That’s it,’ she added,
“It’s time for you to go.”
