All we have

I was left believing

that I’d do anything

for you

but this is the left over

bits of anything,

and you have lost faith

in us

despite everything,

which I suppose

leaves me with

nothing except

this.

*

I want to write a line

that would fix all of it

but I only have this

and it runs too long

like us,

who reach an end

like this

–

a breathless fury

against the emptiness

beside and between

each other.

*

The city scribbles

a comic of window panels

where people see a different

life than this one,

the life that could’ve be

with superheros and noticeable villains

and moments where she said boom-boom

and you boom-boomed

and things were boom-boom too,

the life where I am not

folded on a subway seat

after a boom-boom

like a birthday balloon deflated,

looking at them

looking at me

and none of us recognizing

that this brief glance

is all we have.