everyone knew

I know who you are,
she says
stubbing a cigarette out
with worn yellow fingers
you lived on Lincoln Avenue
with that boy
didn’t you?
we could hear your screams
from 3 blocks away

he was always
bad news,
even as
a kid
was no big surprise
where he ended up
she says
yet another
Winston 100

we would
see you
around town
those days
head down
black eyed
puffy lipped

we just kept
to ourselves 
she says
no sense
getting involved
in other people's

she exhales
through coral
painted lips

the smoke hangs
between us
like an
word balloon

(to see the photopoetic version on my other site, click here.)


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