Walking just before rain
heavy air inhaled
filling my lungs
a leisurely pace

I walk past the old Mills in Olympia
Beautiful
and dying
skeletal bricks
and boarded windows

and i walk and stare
and the air smells different there
in the mill village
from where i stand i see
two mills, three churches, and all cookie cutter houses

I can feel a drop of rain on my cheek
staring at the masonry,
i forget to wipe it away

so many lives lived out here
so many years
hard work and prayers side by side

and i wonder when exactly
the mills died
much like the people here
and the churches became stores
and the windows were boarded
and the streets emptied.

I wonder how something like this dies
how the houses were emptied and the people moved
I wonder what they left for
what they ran to
or ran away from...

I look at you now
and disgust fills my mouth
such a heavy taste
it lingers for hours
like cigarette smoke
on the jacket I wore to that bar

I think of you
in memory
a rare dream
of a past event
and I wake up
and feel dirty
clean skin
needing soap
to wash the soul beneath

I read a book
and love the story
the plot twists
and the villain reminds me of you
and I cringe
I cringe because
some memories are
too hard to erase

and i realize that on some levels
I hold them close to me
not fondly, mind you
not at all
but to remind myself
of you
and to look at who you are
and who you were then
and how blind I was
and to see

to look for that in other people
the next boy in the bar
the next guy who sends over a drink
so I never end up with another you
and become another me
like the one I was with you

tainitng my perspectives
turning my stomach
I remember you, yes
but never fondly