63rd Street

It was seven months since I last saw you
And you looked me in the eye,
Introduced yourself
Like we never even knew each other.

I remember that final day
On the subway- 63rd Street- when
You took my hands and
Said you’d never forget
But you walked away first
And you didn’t look back.

You etched your knife
Into my soul, carved out my heart,
Left me to bleed, to die
Alone on that sidewalk
Sandwiched by graffiti and closed delis.

I used to see you in the windows of stores
In the suits that you insisted on wearing
Formal- even to the last minute-
And brimming with confidence.

You were the wings of every
Bird that flew by
Free and unflinching to the wind
And sky.

You etched your knife
Into my soul, but there was something
I didn’t know, that as my blood
Ran out on the street
You were falling on
The other end of the blade.

I remember that final day
On the subway- 63rd Street- after
We’d woken up late and gone to a nice lunch.
You walked away first
And you didn’t look back
Because you didn’t want me to see
The tears in your eyes.

It was seven months until I saw you again
And you looked me in the eye,
Introduced yourself,
Like an apology, a fresh start.