four stories above grand avenue

don’t worry, baby

i see you
and me
what we are
could be
together

in the cut

taking care
to tear everything down
but each other

what an undeniably fine pair we make

but what looms larger
is what we will never be

uncooperative past lives
casting shadows
over unison laughter and room service trays

don’t worry, baby

i’ll never wear your shirt and wish for you

i won’t read the messages or answer the phone at 4 am when the brown liquor is speaking on your behalf

as an act of mercy
will you please pull your fedora down
and cover your dark eyes
so i do not have to pretend
that i don’t see the way you look at me

as we sit by the window
able to be opened just enough
to save us from the fire
release our smoke rise

but not to fall from this height

never fall

i promise not to fall

in love

don’t worry, baby