Patterns of Banality

His smile,
rotated 180
would match the scar
on his right side
slightly above his hip
slightly below the
convex skin covering
his last rib.
A battle wound memory
of the day I left him.

He remembers it well
as do I
the finality of goodbye
fate tackles us
with cunning lullabies
and reassuring eyes
but his heart
did not correspond with mine
and so I am without him
the void of his existence
burning in my chest
empty, lonely, anticipating his return
but expecting nothing
the flaw in my design

I watched from his window
as he walked down the street
then I slipped quietly from his bed
and back into reality

That day I left him
never returning his attempts at understanding
and I infused him with confusion
His anger rising steadily
with his tears
He never saw me leave
as I never saw him fall

and so, once again
I am restless...