70 days

my skin sensed them
as my red suede ballet slippers
stepped out the door of the restaurant
onto ludlow

a couple
oddly the same height
exchanging heated words
beneath the marquee of the esquire theatre
featuring a revival
of the big lebowski
woody allen’s blue jasmine
and the
way way back

her wrists and neck
dripping with crystals and faceted beads
pleading with his cigarette and ben hogan hat
their eyes on fire
passion sucking in the air around them

it reminded me that
love is far from the opposite of hate

indifference is

no two people had ever looked more involved
with each other
as the denizens of the city bus
pushed through the opened door
bleeding around them in the magenta street

you dids
i didn’ts
we nevers
and why the fucks
spat with antacid
at their feet

as i passed them
she grabbed his anger
kissed his cheek
and covered him in
i’m sorry

his eyes welling
voice cracking
saying to her
do you know it has been
70 days
since you last spoke to me

they walked away from each other
into the night

i looked above the fire escapes and power lines
to see what the celestial bodies thought of the scene

swearing my eyes
could see
the half moon weep