LENA

The last time I saw Lena
I was waving goodbye to her
through fingerprinted Plexiglas
in an austere airport
somewhere in the world.
She was waving back
in that flippant way
that I was accustomed to
but was not used to.
I boarded that plane
and never looked back, in reality,
but in my mind I look for Lena
everyday.
In my morning coffee
I search for her eyes.
In the afternoon sky littered with clouds
I search for her hair.
In my dreams every night
I search for Lena.
I left her long ago
as she waved goodbye
with a hand cloaked in white nylon
and a promising new diamond sparkling beneath.
The hand I'd promised to hold forever
waved goodbye.
The last time I saw Lena
she was happy (her chocolate eyes sparkling)
and I'd like to remember her this way.
So though I search for Lena everyday,
in reality,
I never want to see her again.