for a beautiful person

and i felt the echo in the specks of your eyes
the last traces of her still chilling in your own private spaces

into an annotated tableau

you
thinner than you would like to remember
chipped around the edges
but still
mama's favorite warrior
sayin' to no one in particular
(but everyone in particular)

'you got me so sick with your sadness
i tell ya
it must've been raining the day you were born'

(but not really meaning it this time)

the warm air curling around your words
each soft curve upon hard angle
(like a woman's defiant body when she's angry)
swallowed by a dark hypnotic empty
until i couldn't remember if they existed at all

and a distant train whistle
notes trailing behind a timid fingernail
drawn through a widening leadened wake
signaled another cross-country freight
rumbling
deeper into the night.