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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