later

sometimes
I realize how much I still look
to see if I can find your face in the crowd, the edge of the picture, the reflections in windows in videos far away.
then I receive a message and I scan the letters meticulously, re-read it, re-think it. Read it again.
Surprised I cock my head as if to listen to a faint voice, echoing somewhere in the vastness of my heart. If there is. There still is. Something.
Later I notice how I kick the fallen leaves like a kiddo and think much love.
It is weird, isn't it.
Nashville, you sound, and, I blank everything out. Everything that could disturb this warm feeling that is etching my armor away, minute by minute, letter for note.