NON-DATE

I endured teeth-cracking cold for you on the night we planned to meet. I gave up precious body heat to the glaciating air, my extremities surviving on the memory of blood flow. I stood sentry-stiff by a sighing junction until the town closed down; imagined other intersections hosting lonely vigils too. When I thought I saw you driving by, eyes on the road ahead, I felt infatuation die. Its tenancy was taken up by bitterness and hate - their insulation worked at once. I headed home the wrong way, in revolt against the grid, and mocked the servile traffic lights repeating patterns without pause.