When I see you sitting in the restaurantnCounting complex carbohydratesnI will wonder where it was I knew you fromnAnd I will give you my regardsnWhen you turn to gonAnd in these final parting phrases nI will overanalyze the way your eyes move slower than beforennWinter morning in the parking lot of my apartment complexnI will be the first to force eye contactnIn this dashing, darting deer-in-the-headlight looksnAre growing tirednnFrom time to time when I am feeling tremblednI will unfold all these letters from old friends and loversnFrom the of the long ago of penmanship and perfect strokesnAnd even though I say these notes nI won’t pretend I know any more, any morennHeld in hallwaysnCutting corridor doorsnWe will speak these warm wordsnHalf empty, half full