Tanya's Journey

Red ribbons Two more connections, Red ribbons, Like the one we had before. Before. The reds are vibrant, Pulsing, Like yours was. Before. I can't feel you anymore, You must be relieved. I've no idea which colour you Vibrate, Anymore. These new connections Are to men. Spirituals, Like us, I'm not sure Who they are, And what this means, That they pulse your colour, Your first colour, The one I always associated To you. To us. Gods above, I still miss you.

The tear. A tear on her cheek. Black-rimmed glasses, hidden by short curly hair. Pale cheeks, revealed to all, And there, the single tear. Dark head bent, starring at her mute phone, thumbs twitching, as if, waiting, hoping, praying for a reply. The bus sways but she does not. Face and body stoic. Emotionless. Unwilling to move. To breathe. But that tear betrays her, as it rolls, down, further more, and drops onto the dark screen, framed by now motionless thumbs.