The man on 44th Street

The Man on 44th Street

She loved a man who lived in the yellow house on 44th Street
She loved a man who said hello
She loved a man who owned a van, the only van in the neighborhood
She loved a man who’s name was Daniel, but everyone called him Dan
She loved a man who could dance, but always joked he couldn’t
She loved a man who always had a smile on his face, even when he was mad
She loved a man who disliked conflict, eager to solve it
She loved a man who said “I love you”

She loved a man who was newly married, whose wife seemed happy
She loved a man who got a job that paid more, was more, and had him be more
She loved a man who moved away, away from the yellow house on 44th Street
She loved a man who took his wife with him, who didn’t seem to mind
She loved a man who wanted kids
She loved a man whose wife was pregnant

She loved a man whose wife fell sick, suddenly, unexpectedly
She loved a man whose wife was in the hospital
She loved a man who at last hated something: the word that starts with c

She loved a man who went back to the yellow house, the one on 44th Street
She loved a man who grieved, for three lives

He loved a woman who was no longer there
He loved a woman who no longer laid in his bed
He loved a woman who no longer woke up an hour after him
He loved a woman who no longer slept softly as he watched her chest rise, and fall
He loved a woman who didn’t see him buy a bottle of beer
Then another
And another
And another
and another

He loved a woman who would have been holding a newborn, exhausted but glowing
He loved a woman who would at least not see the house in such disarray
He loved a woman who couldn’t see his life now, the bottles lying at his feet
He loved a woman who, thankfully, couldn’t see him slumped on their couch,
Tattered from abuse and misuse, the strong smell of Jack Daniels permeating the leather
Old, dried spice and the smoke of oak
Clogged his throat and burned his eyes
Followed by a sweet citrus, coated with caramel
Sweet
Too sweet
He loved a woman who was sweet

He loved a woman who no longer lived in the yellow house
The yellow house on 44th Street
He loved a woman who laid in a grave, side by side
3 feet from his own