she wears a black wool coat,
nothing else - save for a pair of heeled boots that always clack sharply as if she's walking on tile.
her hair is pulled tightly up into a bun, not a single hair out of place.
but it's the feeling that you get when you are around her, the full body visceral reaction, that you remember. she's impossible to forget.
and as if you ever could, she'll remind you anyway
- drop by unanounced, often quite unwelcome,
and then stay for as long as she pleases.
she is the worst house guest. sometimes it can feel like she'll never leave.
she will talk to you for hours, often without letting you get a word in,
or perhaps just sit at the kitchen table with a mug of bitter black coffee - where her weighted silenence can almost feel more intrusive.
she has been staying with me for far too long.
her perfume has seeped into almost everything I own.
I need to say goodbye.