Transitioning in Atmospheres

She thought of him while sipping
euro-fifty French wine from the bottle
Lazily dangling pens over the backs
of receipts having left the book
at home.
She thought of him curiously as to
Why he was not There as he said
He Was Coming.
She thought of him outside smoking
her first taste of home back to whatever
grind she could put herself to among strangers.
She thought of him, her friend,
fiendishly absent in the chilly night.
She thought of his hands and
wanted to hold them.
She thought of his hands and
wanted to take comfort knowing that he
would not disappear and would
Smile
among these strangers.
She thought of his smile and
She laughed.