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Rated: 13+ · Poetry · Romance/Love · #1966579
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
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