Allison

That laugh
that wants so badly to be apart
that wants you to be a part of
and invites you down long
hallways and corridors
to coffee shops and road trips and all night diners
to places so ordinary only
she could make them
scream for mercy
till tears ran down their faces
Not tears of crying
or tears at a wedding
(those are saved for later)
but tears of elation that
come so infrequently and in
such great number,
like constellations spread out in front of you.
It's not the season or the weather
that makes things happen
It's where you look in the constellations
of her eyes
and her laugh.
whether north
or south and
no matter hemisphere or meridian
she's there
between sips of
coffee, sad drags of cigarettes
and stoplights on a
road trip.