Trains stop at
Ditmas Ave and
rain
drops
down
my
cheek. I have
Bubblicious gum
stuck to my shoe.
It’s cherry like
Chapstick and you,
run your hands
through my hair
in whispers, I
cannot hear the
words spoken by
your stare. "Your lips
are sweet. I could
live in your lips."

Brown eyes and grey
skies of smog, you
smell of smoke, cigarette
behind your ear, and
the air, it sticks to
my lips like sap,
maple-covered kisses
and us, wrapped
in each other’s
arms. Our shoelaces
hold us up and
I’m standing on my
toes ‘til my forehead
meets your chin,
your nose, and

we wait under
florescent lights. It’s
too bright to see
the stars, cheap
graffiti fades and
gravity
weighs
us
down
at
night we learn
the lessons that
hurt the most, moments
so ephemeral are
are outside of
our control.

It’s a never-ending
obsession
with the hope
that holds our
heads

and as
the future turns
to black,
we see rats
among the
tracks, thick tails
and pizza
trails, our fear—
it pulls us
together and
pulls us apart,
realizing that
time is not
ours, but

trains will flood
the station, pick
up and pass us
by and we, all
at once, accept
the sensation of
never
having been
together
at all.