The subway doors open
and suddenly around me swirls
a sea of strangers. And I am
alone, still alone. You are
not here. You are not here.

I hold my cellphone tight,
glass heart beating to the strophe
of undeleted text messages,
circumstantial evidence
of what you meant to me.

I keep telling myself,
things will fall back in place,
everything as it was before,
once your picture fades
from my Polaroid heart.


  1. Short link - http://bit.ly/s4halftones

  2. A picture fading "from my Polaroid heart." Modern love and loss, with a wicked fast mourning blip. Thanks, Samuel.

    Tweeting this now.

  3. very nice..thanks for sharing your words


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