of me to
hide the homemade
smile I used to use
to move you
from dubious
to close to me. But then,
even the frayed
ends of this
chase require fuel.
Alone at the finish (my having,
at last,
won the race)
with my bare
face pressed against
the glass
that overlooks
the cage you once named
your favorite place,
I think it's safe
to admit
to the silent
pool of frosty gray
that you've
long since
stopped chasing me anyway,
and I've
long since lost
my cool.
