She looks a lot like moving on,
That girl with the black eyes, black boots, and black hat,
Arm across her smaller friend’s shoulder,
Mouth to ear
Whispering too loud, too close, and smiling too big
not to be a show for him-
the one with blonde hair and baby beard.
She looks a lot like moving on
Slowly, the way she always does.
On a street like New Orleans and a bus
With a band bigger than his.
She looks like first returns to back shadows of old haunts-
ones she won’t tell people about when she wants to be alone and
she doesn’t look for him there
But she keeps them with her anyway.
The cross on her wrist and diamonds on her neck
Remind her what it would cost if she had stayed.
Music touches a memory across the room,
“Nothing lasts forever” he says, eyeing her first tattoo
But she won’t believe him yet.
“New doors and new experiences,”
Knowing a 6 month taste
of his life
Is all she’ll ever get.
She has somewhere else to be.
The drums in the band are angry now,
And no one but me looks at her, asks why she’s alone
She prefers it this way-
To dissolve into the shadows
She says it all in the flip of her dark brown hair-
It’s true that hearts don’t break around here
But they hurt a little
On the way to where they should be.