I won’t claim love for her
Since she shorted me constantly
Yet I can’t help but mourn her skin, and almond eyes
God, so much beauty in that temperament

She spoke of dead dirty cops rotting under brick houses and hung men
All while dividing tasks to the masses
Leaving me behind to smoke a cigarette in the back of the restaurant
(The space between then and now is blank)

Dead in her stupor
I can’t place this loss
For it is not one
But yet I ache to cry for her as I spit pennies on the pavement
(In memory of her)

Maybe then I can comprehend death of an unloved one

--

It seems to me that my heart hurts for everyone.