we come from spunk,
those five minutes your daddy paid attention
to your mommy.
we live here
in the now,
just a collection of images
passing through one another on the street
like
it's only air,
a blur.
you go this way.
i'll go that way,
and maybe we'll meet up
one day
if we both slow down.
i'll light your cigarette.
we sit down where the curb meets
the street.
and by this time,
i swear to god,
one of us will have something to say
like grown ups,
just how we used to imagine.
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