You'll never touch her again, so get what you can.

We can only spend so much time dancing in ambiguity
before someone trips over their own feet.

I hope I'm something in your whirlwind universe of stars and runaway lanes and freedom's own limitations.
I hope you think of me, or at the very least, make out my face in the crowd.
I suppose I should think it's a tragedy if you don't.

But I'm just an ear,
of what was said to
her or she
or he.