Two short things written two years apart. One is ambiguous, the other is for my flatmate I wrote a month or so ago.
I.
For a moment she was a beat of nostalgia
disappearing on the end of his tongue
then replaced- like a receipt
underneath an ashtray
or was she misplaced?
He gave up smoking to grow orchids.
II.
Do you remember the way-back-when,
a time before all this began
when I wasn't afraid of going to sleep
and you didn't want to be anyone's man?