August

*

I'm trying to be strong and happy
but
this stone face knows how to crack;
the two-way mirror goes one direction

I'm peering out
and bouncing back
inverted reflection
as our fingers collide

Sparks between our palms
shoulders
crash of hips and words
and
I'm tied to the thought
of that waking stone
and lying down--
the pills in her hands

New York, New York's so far away
but I'd be nothing
if I didn't;
I'll be nothing
when your car takes off
nothing but dust, exhaust
and one broken mirror, going one way
pieces of a dream