POLLUTING

i had parked in the very spot you left me, i think the seventh one left of the trash and recycling disposal.

i had spent seven minutes parking to ensure the leeway between my left and right were great enough.

you were standing against the left body of your car, your hands by your side sometimes make way to your mouth.

you were thinking, gathering and preventing any spillage of thought that might stain the air between us.

i thought about how the hem of my gathered skirt tickled the skin beneath my knees.

and how would it be if i welcomed your gaze instead of observing the gravel beneath.

how would it be if i told you what i had dreamed?

how would it be if you and i in the night hadn't thought so much about distance

and instead danced around the seventh parked spot under a starry night.