I walk through crowds so I never hear one heart beat.
Searching through various items of clothing,
hung by mismatched hangers.
You touch one in partcular,
you always do, but you never take it down.
You can’t part from this one,
but it doesn’t fit the way it used to.
It looked better then, not now.
She is the dress in your closet that you keep:
the one that stays forever, never moving.
I need to start reading before bed.