Studied
by Jeff Crouch © 2006
I find her left-behinds and touch the walls of her closet.
I seem to be made on something that slipped away—
Scratching my nose, rubbing my fingers, trying … .
Neither my lies nor my truths nor any place I put my finger.
Remember.
And I stare too long at her picture.
Jeff Crouch is a writer in Grand Prairie, Texas. He plays at art as though it were a game of hide and go seek. His writing has recently appeared in Above Ground Testing, Canopic Jar , The Cerebral Catalyst, The Dead Mule School of Southern Literature , The Dream People , Lunatic Chameleon , My Favorite Bullet , saucy vox , semantikon , Subterranean Quarterly , Underground Window , Venue--A Southern Forum , and Wire Sandwich with more forthcoming in Static Movement and The Rose and Thorn