Eyes closed, feet drumming along to the beat,

Shiny blue on my lids, bright enough from a mile away,

Tan lines on my toes, prickling of hair on my legs,

My mess of black hair piled high on my head,

And a leopard band around it.

All of this is me; all of this (it seems) is just me.

But behind my eyes is a snapshot of blonde hair, freckles, and hair on the knuckles.

The blue is meant to portray your eyes, never as near as a mile away.

An old memory of dancing on the beach, so happy in your arms, so relaxed to call it "home".

And remembering us, just us,

And knowing things have changed,

This is an epiphany just sitting on the subway.