All day

Skin pallid,
Shadows are home. 
Sharp, yellow rectangles
float in evening sky,
breaking distant 
monotony of nothing. 

Hair like Van Gogh's sunflowers;
brash, false, dying;
dead, die, dye, dyed.
I think I know her;
I long to know,
to have known,
to ask, 'do I know you?'
Do I? 

Noise but find no 
understanding. Head throbs,
filled with last night’s
fretful sleeplessness. 
Did I know her?

All day
in a dry, hot room;
extolling
the virtues of building 
brand [insert name here],
adding insight to injury. 
Coffee cooling,
piles of free croissants 
and PowerPoint slides. 

Green leaves against 
white plastered 
walls. Smiles 
plastered, we shake hands. 
Do I know this touch?
The same as every other,
sweat laden. 

I knew her. I should have said. 
Too late now,
office lights disappear,
night stretches ahead;
shadows rest.