The look in your eyes is barely recognizable; or so it seems to be attracted to everything within reach of a whisper. Srain your ears, just to hear them speak. Seconds slip by, words turn into wounds; Flling into every piece of you Two times at night and double that on the weekends. I could tear my hands across your back and still hear you scream... Goodbye Susan. Hope you had fun. I never intended any of this to happen. Yet I still recall the smell of your car last fall and how it felt to be close to you. The slant of your smile is only noticed by the line; or so it seems to be attracted to anything between here and there. I might not redraw the fragile lines of Seattle Minutes pass by settling the wounds. Tripping into every inch of you. Goodbye Susan