Gold eye shadow brings out the green

in her eyes,

drawing my attention from across                                                                         the room.

The music blasting in my ear cuts

out.

My center of gravity shifts.

And I know.

 

I’m sorry for your loss.

That’s too formal.

Hey, I know I don’t know you, but I know your best friend just died and I’m sorry.

I sound crazy.

Weaving through the crowd, I try

to get closer to her.

But the weight of her grief squeezestheairfrommylungs.

 

Two hours and thirty minutes of avoiding her ends

when she taps my shoulder.

Her long, dark hair brushes against me as I turn.

Her eyes are glossy and bloodshot, but she smiles.

And my chest releases.

And the hurt heals to hope.

Poetry

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