She Looks Like Moving On

She looks a lot like moving on,

That girl with the black eyes, black boots, and black hat,

Arm across her smaller friend’s shoulder,

Mouth to ear

Whispering too loud, too close, and smiling too big

not to be a show for him-

the one with blonde hair and  baby beard.

 

She looks a lot like moving on

Slowly, the way she always does.

And deliberately,

On a street like New Orleans and a bus

With a band bigger than his.

 

She looks like first returns to  back shadows of old haunts-

ones she won’t  tell people about when she wants to be alone and

she doesn’t look for him there

Or him

Or him

But she keeps them with her anyway.

 

The cross on her wrist and diamonds on her neck

Remind her what it would cost if she had stayed.

Music touches a memory across the room,

“Nothing lasts forever” he says, eyeing her first tattoo

But she won’t believe him yet.

 

“New doors and new experiences,”

She says

Knowing a 6 month taste

of his life

Is all she’ll ever get.

She has somewhere else to be.

 

The drums in the band are angry now,

And no one but me looks at her, asks why she’s alone

She prefers it this way-

To dissolve into the shadows

 

She says it all in the flip of her dark brown hair-

It’s true that hearts don’t break around here

But they hurt a little

On the way to where they should be.

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