the party at the broodmoor. moon time.
it's full and high. strangers are talking
to one another close and loud. loud
because of the music, how it blares
across the apartment complex. boom,
bap. I keep staring at my phone. what
should be a picture of yesterday, and
it is. I was snapping shots on my phone
and snapping, snapped you. you, long-
-legged, slightly leaning forward as you
walked. and I had to reach out and meet
you and tell you about broodmoor. tonight.
so, you'd be here, so you said. you said
past midnight: now. no sign of you though.
my screen is out, your face, wild, dead-
-eyed. I show you to party-goers. no go.
so, here I am, going out of my head,
cuz everyone I ask, say you died years ago.