Mary

Two years from that day
you came around
suitcase on the doorstep
fluttering laughter
in the hallway
dancing eyes.

I told you I was going
out of town, I wasn't.

Barely concealed a
solemn sense of too
little too late. You half-
smiled. Lipstick on your
front teeth.

Some days I still wonder
how things might
have been
different. You live in
London now, I hear your
name among old
acquaintances.

They say you're doing well.