“Bang the clutch, dig your heel “ ( a mishearing of “and you clutched clinging heels”) Blood Bank, Tr 2

I fill the notebook
A thousand words:
Nothing.
Still I try to get it down.
every little bit.

Dreams linger.
Where were you last night?

I don’t know the etiquette here.
You are a strange landscape.
And now the body is growing cold.

Do I stay and suffer the awkward conversations?
or do I slip out as silent as I came?

A part of me wants to stay here forever
but it doesn’t ever work out.

Needs call me back home.

Forever is a moment I will not crush.

I was never here.