I didn’t know
Getting put on trial
Was part of seeing you. I thought while pretending to listen.
“Who ya hangin round?” she said coyly
As if she’d guessed my head
Had gone green.
I stepped back
Reeling on my heel
To turn away
And she slung arrows
With her vocal cords.
“You’re going out,
Slipping slowly toward
Streets and dirty needles,
Come back to me, I still think about you…sometimes.

I exhaled
Biting back excuses
And replied
“I’m inside to stay
Cause the alleys too cold
I’m leaving for a minute
Be back before we’re old.”

She buried face in hands
And told me
It was hopelessly hopeless to hope
For nowhere to be there
For everywhere
When she needed nothing.