maybe some other time

he tells her that he's
glad she's here,
no one else
calms him
the way she does.

it's a strange thing
to say to someone
he's only known
for 12 hours

she doesn't think so

or at least doesn't
think much of it.

she laughs
fills the room
without moving

they don't need to
move
here
there's enough to
do without it.

still laughing
she talks about
the last winter this cold
about the phone calls
almost unending
from the emergency room
the almost lost
loved ones

her tone is
surprising
and even she,
as the words
tumble from her lips
is wondering why she's
saying these things
to a stranger

through laughter no less.

he doesn't think much about it.

"teenage suicide... don't do it."

they conjure the scene from
Heathers
talk about cinematography
and how the snow
sparkles
in the moon

how they wish they could
capture it on
film
but know it wouldn't be the same

how they wish moments
like these could
last
but know it wouldn't be the same

she would not have sat
with him
in a crowded restaurant
in Boston
because he lives in LA

so sure is she
of this
and of the sanctity
of time and place
that goodbye kisses
hang in the air
like uncashed checks

because checks are promises

and she's already overdrawn.