but, what if you hadn’t walked into that space?
only you could have left that imprint
as you sat there, still and free
enjoying your mug of coffee
pressing pause, giving thanks

long after you left the gray metal seat
& the yellow cushion that clung to your back,
the fan that sent its tendrils into your strands
and settled into your creaseless lids

long after you had collected all your
sounds and colors and fragrance,
that space (and maybe others too) held on
to the memory of your light, your waterfalls