The Last Time That You Waved Goodbye Poem by Charles Malcolm

I heard laughter.

Then my name, maybe.
I had headphones in and can't be sure.

I looked up
and saw a porcelain doll
with black bangs
waving at me.

That same sad, royal wave
that you gave me
that one night
inside of his apartment.

As the red wine sinks to my stomach
and the red blood seeps through my skin,
I know that it was you,
and I know that you were laughing at me.

I haven't felt this badly since the last time
that you waved goodbye.