Sister Series: My Favorite Work of Hers, Her Favorite Work of Mine

Aqueduct Avenue

Our fourth floor walk-up overlooked
a lawn littered with trash cars. The bed
sagged, marooning us in the mattress
until you slid packed bags under it.

Nights were too quiet there; you slept
through whole days like a bat. A trail
of unwashed whites was all I had to go on
when you drove off with your second
best bet.

I waited for your return, hovered
beneath a city of back-lit windows.
Your silhouette slow-danced in a pivot
of arms no one should have trusted.

The music, muted by the slow flow
of glass, floated down by stories
to the street. I could have grabbed it
in my fist if I wanted.

--poem first published in Lily; painting in Blood lotus

 

                                                                                  

the best of scattered-light