Written by Malisa Anne
I watched the sky turn
pink on my own tonight, no grey in sight
Leaves on the trees swayed to the music of the cars
one by one driving home, or to work
maybe to some bar where they could run into you
find you sitting, drink in hand
same ol’ Hendricks and tonic
Here I am, still sitting on the concrete slab I call “front yard”
The air around me traces the shape of your voice
I know you’re telling some story I’ve heard a million times
My lips burn tasting your phantom gin
while the sunset cradles me
in a way only you and the sky can
Text © Malisa Anne
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