all this space,
all these smooth floorboards
with grain like the ocean waves that churned
and grew and grew while we became who we are.
i lent you my youthful years, my
madness and tears,
my letters and fractured poetry.
a wallflower, broken by
patti smith and henry rollins
and the bristle of your love.
i will remember the burn of your drunken haze
for the rest of my life. i will remember
the bloodshot eyes
and the midnight train to brooklyn
and the softness of your sobriety.