This city you live in, terrified, is now empty.
Friends fly in and out—for love,
sometimes for nothing. And this evening,
a mist so fine your lips are slick
as you walk from his apartment to his
and then back, into yourself.
There is a place everyone leaves for.
Someone you slept with once said that to you
while he ran his hands over your face.
And there is a place for those still here,
watching the last ships circle around the receding island.
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