The Pusher

Lying together after lackluster sex,
two hedonists using each other
for cheap and fleeting thrills,
we smoke cigarettes you stole
from the gas station counter
after charming the cashier
with your lightless smile
and counterfeit warmth.

Cancerous clouds curl
along the too-close walls,
blur what little gray light
struggles through the window
as you talk about
some future I cringe from
even envisioning

for this so-called relationship
based
on what amounts
to drunken mistakes
and my inability to say no
to your sweet sweet drugs:

I don’t think I can have
a serious relationship with you
unless you
can open
your heart
to Christ.

Didn’t We Fly

didn’t we fly
that chill autumn day
escaped from apple picking
to smoke secret cigarettes in the woods
on a rough dirt road to nowhere

when a half dozen boys
came on rumbling bikes
asked if we wanted
to go for a ride

we should have known better
and run for our lives
but we grinned at each other
and got on behind

and didn’t we fly

didn’t we fly
with the wind in our hair
and the sky whirling by
trailing shrieking laughter

my cheek pressed against
his warm farm boy back
arms holding tight
like I was in love
maybe just for that moment I was

didn’t we fly

didn’t we fly
that chill autumn day
now I’m older and wiser
and you’ve gone away
but I will always remember you
and that perfectly dangerous
beautiful day

didn’t we fly?

 

 

For Dawn Davis