I would know your footsteps even if you were not near. The way you walk, stomping your way back into my memory. Your smell lingering and clinging like paint on a wall, even chipped it holds itself there and doesn’t fault. I hear you everywhere, in a crowd, in a room, in a hall it echoes and calls to me without even naming. I’m haunted by you, by your presence it envokes a reaction spiraling out of...