Tonight I'm thinking

of ADF in the early twos,
forgive that I've forgotten exactly when,
and we drank Red Stripe on the porch and
it was awkward but
wonderful
to be
alive.

And the night was hot and silent and
you were far
too good
for
me.

And I
devoured you.

First lips,
heart
last.

And I never loved you.
And I never loved myself.

And once you came down off the roof
of your Brooklyn apartment
and they sent you away
to a place
you would break to
describe,

you told me that I was bad for you
and I'll forever live with questions

why?

But I've known myself forever and
I don't blame you
at
all.

I look at your pictures;
you're fragile but
happy.

I guess you got what you deserved and
so did
I.