All this Broken Love I didn't tell you how I felt when you said those things. I will tell you now. Those words are long rides on the highway. Broken sandals. A no-fly zone. Your anger sits on my tongue. It's a restless bee. It shakes the walls, paints them green. Once we danced to some band, but it was only the wine talking. You were never in love with her. You told her that in a letter. I found it in that box from a sneaker store. I don't remember you having sneakers like that. Only no money for food. It's okay. She probably forgot about your eyes. The way you laugh. I love you now. We're stuck here in this place so no-one really cares but us. 9:15 Tuesday Night On College Avenue, Pinky smokes pot on the steps. The smoke is in his sneakers, coils a snake up his arm. He just had words with his brother. He left them on a plate burning dark ash into the air. Henry told him, he told him. Pinky didn't want to hear any of that. Pinky has new sneakers he planned on for two weeks before the pandemic. He piled coins into a mountain, then watched them fall. His tats aren't new, but from back in high school when everything was a dare.