drenched in her tears i stepped into the hallway shared by all the other fourth floor door dwellers stinking of fried chicken, body fetor, and incense
none of which were winning the odor war, an amalgamation of whiffs running wildly through our rooms
all but tuna
tuna sat in the corner waiting for the stench to reach its threshold
then, without hesitation, he’d zoom center stage through draft ways and air vents
nobody welcomed him
he wafted alone through bed sheets and hanging drapes, living in garbage bin tossed tin can creases
festering in mouth corners
absorbed in crumbly crusts left on plates for tomorrow’s cleaning
blasting our senses, giving way to other impressions
biding time
for the next unleashing
resting on your breathe
before the door shut, i turned around and took my final look
sorry for the last time
if i could click my heels i’d be back with her
the her before her, that’s right before you
for years i penetrated the aura swirling around
thinking i could make a new sound pound from the ground you stood on and around
i’ve learned
nothing’s wasted
if we walk away with something
it’s my turn
i’ll dry my shoulders
lift off your weight
make my way down the hall
it’s never too late
to inhale the sweet smell of something new