hello again

What do you do with all of the people you have


Loved (and not)

almost did

Where do they go once you say goodbye maybe

No goodbye

It might not have even started with a hello

Could have been a nod

or a closed lip, no teeth, how-shall-we-do-this-thing-do-you-even-wanna-do-this-thing-I-think-I-might-wanna-do-this-thing smile

Where are you supposed to put these people

out of sight, out of mind?

Tuck ‘em away until one day they come back? Do they ever

come back?

When you drive past a sign or see a color or hear a song, a name, a last name, the backside of someone’s head that looks faintly familiar, the smell of a cologne or perfume but

not Le Labo because everyone smells like that.

And like that —

here they are.