A poem about being shaken |
While you were sleeping, I moved to the windowsill and traced my finger along all the constellations I could remember from 2 AM on our fire escape- first Cassiopeia, then The Dog and Draco, and then down Orion’s belt back into the Midtown lights When I caught myself yawning, I hit the lights and slipped out of the room, paced the length of the hallway for a few minutes until I realized I was sprinting into the stairwell, up three flights to the roof access in a clatter of gasps and keys and footfalls The door was bolted, but I sucked the cold from outside into my lungs anyway I climbed down to the gift shop for some flowers and found them, purple carnations, white striped, added a pack of Orbitz, a stuffed rhinoceros, and two of your favorite candy bars then went next door for a pack of cigarettes I know you said you quit two weeks ago, and I believed you then, But I needed something to snuff out the sound my keys make against my leg, and I still like the feel of their weight in my pocket And this part I’m embarrassed about, but I went back and raided your purse for thirty cents in pennies, lost twenty-eight playing jacks against three nurses and a cancer patient- None of them were any good past foursies, but I guess it just wasn’t my night |