In the city that I knew you
Even my dreams started falling apart
And I was so poor that I sold my umbrella
On a rainy day so I could buy macaroni and
Have it with you so we could have
The strength to wander scarred streets
And long avenues yawning down Broadway
And wander the night as black as sleep in
Search of unruly dreams.
And on the night I saw my first rat
In an alley you told me to be careful of
Falling glass because not everybody looks
Out for one another. So you said, you’ve
Got to look up and watch out at the same
Time, you have to look in constantly and force yourself to love
What you see like how
A bruise hugs your skin and turns
Blue tattooing your shin with the beauty of
What you’ve been through. You have to know
How to love you.
Passed our tiny house, the hill, the gas station, and library doors,
There are crows painted on the train station floors
Trapped in flight or in mid fall
In the city where I knew you and you called home and
In which I still didn’t you said
You’ve got to stand up tall
Like you’re rooted in cement
Because
Nobody can ride your back
If your back’s not bent.
The shadows under my eyes
I promise are fading, the cuts
On all my toes are leaving
My sheared bits of hair, now growing
And the unshakable hunger in my belly, receding
Yet the bruises remain and
The scars, well, they still stay the same
But the important thing is
Even if my voice may be sort of small
Given a bit of time, it’ll now
break down
walls.
Nichole Squire 