All Too Familiar ~ Camilla Basham

All Too Familiar Camilla Basham Somewhere in the night I fantasized that I was fantasizing about you. As the sun rose, I counted the street signs north as I walked to find you. Somewhere near 58th I saw the green of your eyes. The taxi’s rubber on the damp streets produced a rhythm in time with my pulse. The horns rang out in unison with each small explosion of my heart. The pavement was soaked with black summer heat as I pushed through the crowd like a salmon upstream. My vision tunneled to where I saw only you. As if in slow motion you ran your hand through your strangled ebony curls. As I reached my hand out to touch you, her red nails, like blood on bony flesh, appeared upon your neck. She turned your head to her vulture lips and kissed you. I heard the taunting champagne laughs of Sunday lovers brunching on the sidewalk. You never saw me. My hand still outstretched; I watched you as you disappeared.