Take Another Look

{April 30, 2010}   promise

he wore a coat and a t-shirt. i had just unlocked the door for his vagrant friend out there, whom i had given no notice except to wonder about the timing of the lock. will i get to the door before or after his friend inside the building gets there. it was me, and i saw how his eyes made sure not to make any extra movements, they took me in and noticed i wasnt his friend, then they moved onto the next object, his friend. how those eyes saw me, i dont know if i want to know.  you know those things you aren’t sure you want to know about?his package of smokes hung out of his coat and his friend mentioned needing the fresh air, and his friend said one of those things that makes sense but that you don’t remember later?

two junkies eyes meeting for a moment alone, all the promises they can make to each other they’ve already made, already they know their kids homecoming, they’ve killed off their enemies, they’ve survived off that chocolate frosted stuff, they know forgiveness, and justice, and ugliness, and all that throwing up, and the blissful parts which dont have a name, and the parts that come after wards that they wish didn’t have so many names- all that withdrawal, and that clamp cloying sweat that fawns to the body and stretches everywhere, like a summer day spreading its seeds, you look for a place to put your hand but everywhere on your neck it’s damp but for the moment the promise of the look is enough to stop the flow of confusion, the lovely tilt of his voice, the lean sprite control in his movements.


et cetera