Shoegazing/Negative Space

I spent my days searching for the hidden spaces between colors, the silent tones hidden in melodies, and listening for the unsaid words in every conversation. Negative space, they call it. It is there. The meaning, that is.

I found you there. Your hair was a dark brown braid, your voice was a wind chime of laughter, and I heard you say “Here.”

I looked again and it was just a rusty railroad track, unused and covered by kudzu vines, sapling pines, and locusts. I could smell honeysuckle in the air, and it almost smelled like a woman, or a girl, it almost smelled like you, but you were not there.

Did you hear me call your name?

I fell backwards in space. Time is just another dimension of space.

We fell together and separated into two. We were once joined together, one, in love.

In pieces.

And there should have been another conversation here somewhere. Another word, or string of words, or maybe even a simple goodbye would have sufficed? But no, I would have still looked.

“Stop staring at your shoes!”

But I’m not staring at my shoes. I’m looking through them.

To something that looks a little like you and a lot like me…