“But when we were on the streets,”
(or so I texted),
“Wasn’t life so much simpler then?”

The answer came quickly, as expected
(but not as desired):
“Yeah, right.”

And thus I thought:
“This will never work —
me and her.”

But on the streets
(I further thought),
Wouldn’t it have been so right?

We’d have hooked up.
I’d have had her back.
I’d have protected her.
I’d have clearly been the one who cared 
(unlike the others,
who were only taking advantage of her).

We’d have found spots
to camp out together
where we’d have kissed
(under the stars),
and made false promises to each other,
which we almost both believed.

And then,
one or the other of us
would have gotten a little tired,
or a little freaked out,
and more than a little disillusioned.

And then,
one or the other of us
would have awakened some morning
to empty cement
and cold cardboard
where once the other one
had been there —
for us.  

Better to receive a quick text of truth
Than a gradual, well-thought out,
heartfelt lie.

So quick came my come-back:
(lol, fwiw).
And I guess we’ll both just stay put,
for now . . . 

© A. Pope 2020

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