ELOISE

Eloise, from across the hall

and down two floors,

whom I used to talk to on the elevator,

and think about on the couch,

at the sink,

and in the bed,

she - Eloise - with that short boyish hair,

and the four piercings in her left ear

and two in her right nostril -

she has left.

Eloise has left the building.

She has left the city

and she left no forwarding address

for me.

Eloise, with the shy smile

and the wandering eye

ranging from my knees

to my shoulder to the fly buzzing above

to her floor below - which was six -

she is gone.

Eloise is gone.

She has fled my life

and I can never say goodbye

to anything but my memories of her smile

and her shoes

and her rings and things

I don't even remember ever seeing...

She is gone

which I discovered today

and already,

I miss her.

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