Landing

We ended up between the second and third floor,

which is nobody's floor, which is maybe why.

Someone came through twice.

Didn't look either time.

She said I'm glad you're doing well

and she meant it,

which was the whole problem—

it would've been easier if she hadn't.

The light came under the door at the top

in a thin flat line.

The party still going.

All that warm noise

we were both deciding not to walk back into.

I wanted to say something.

I kept waiting to find out what.

She pulled her sleeve over her wrist.

I noticed.

I didn't say I noticed.

That was six days ago.

I'm still on that landing a little.

Not going up.

Not going down.