more.bad.poetry

where awkward private thoughts become public knowledge.


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It’s Sugar.

Uneven pavement, cracks and all;
the sidewalk is no safer than the street.
It’s a shoulder-push into the road
and then an immediate grab for the hand.
Repeat, repeat, repeat.
A promise not to ever leave you alone,
to keep each other safe,
even when sighs and tears punctuate fighting words.
And then it’s you telling me to do just that –
in no uncertain words, to leave you alone.
I want to tell you what it feels like to be separated from
the light you leave in the air where you’ve been.
I want to tell you that I can still feel your breath on my neck.
As you are walking off alone,
I want to tell you that the tufts of grass coming up through
the sidewalk cracks are kind of beautiful, and resilient,
and I’m planting myself with them until I hear you calling me home.

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