They’re Not There

Rory Jones
Dec 1, 2020

The person who once chased me

All the way out and down the street

Panting and sweating

To greet their lips with mine -

Well, where are they now?

If so much could change with time,

And that same person is


Locked away behind layers and layers

Of concrete memory

Seeking asylum in my quiet moments

Never again able feel the air of the morning

Getting ever colder

Then why do I bother checking

Over my shoulder