On the elevator
a woman wearing your perfume
unwraps a piece of gum,
places it on her tongue
and as she chews mint magnifies
memory: our love just
one young summer slipping
from air-conditioning to air-conditioning,
legs sticky against leather seats,
that scent so fleeting.
On the elevator
everyone fights their own war
shoulder-to-shoulder as
the sliding doors split open,
birthing suits onto office floors.
We are the last two.
Her reflection in the brass
shimmers—behind it nothing
but a nine o’clock routine.
Wilson R. M. Taylor is a poet living in New York City. His work appears in a number of publications, including The Ekphrastic Review, Literary Yard, The Merrimack Review, Superpresent, and Volney Road Review; he was also a winner of MindPath’s 2021 poetry contest and San Antonio’s 2021 National Poetry Month Ekphrastic Contest. He is currently at work on his first collection. For more, please visit https://wilsontaylor19.wixsite.com/wilsonrmtaylor.