You were never the same after

any time we met

face to face.

Irreplaceable, you

nevertheless had a knack

for adaptation.

The pattern shifts,

fades to black,

and you vanish in the night sky.

Where are you?

Footsteps 20 paces away

have I gone —

I shouldn’t say.

There you are,

done something new

with your hair?

The more things change

the more they stay the same,

you hide in plain sight.

Can’t shake this feeling

that I’m being watched,

at least have the courtesy

to tell me whether fight or flight

are reasonable.

Unbelievable, you

the same acrid wine

with a new skin for every

day of the week.