Was it her disappearance?
Has forever ever been so brief?
Was it a moist night in the elevator shaft?
Did that rat eat more than my jacket?
Was it fists and fists and my earnest face?
Who saw whom first?
Was it seeing myself in your eyes?
That made me shut mine.
Maybe it was a search at night, cloaked in childhood, searching for a crime and finding something colder, darker, and half-asleep.
Maybe the keening sound of The Family after hearing her pass on.
Maybe it happened over a game of Stratego. I never cheated, I didn't. I didn't. I didn't.
Maybe it was nothing at all.