flashbacks

He is hold­ing her.
They look very much in love.
Her knees buck­le.
It’s 9:53am.
From two blocks away her body goes life­less.
I was go­ing to get cig­a­rettes.
As I get to them she comes to.
“Are y’all okay?” I ask.
Her eyes roll back in her head
As she says “yes”
“She just.….fainted”
Stum­bles out of his mouth
I can smell the E&J seep­ing out of their teenage pores.
An un­for­get­table scent.
She looks fa­mil­iar.
15 or 16.
Lost.
The kind of pain I fell in love with at that age.
His eyes look like mine the first time I watched some­one over­dose.
He is ter­ri­fied.
I come back with the biggest wa­ter I can buy.
I look him in the face and tell them to take care of each oth­er out here
And walked home
with the ghosts
Silent­ly agree­ing
It is too ear­ly for this.

—an­dru de­f­eye

Flom­mist An­dru De­f­eye is the Guer­ril­la Poet Lau­re­ate of Sacra­men­to. Copy­right © 2017 An­dru De­f­eye.

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