--- J E F F R E Y   E T H A N   L E E

clutching pen and pad in the soaking thundershower
Mick taps the tinted limo glass

she’s across the street now
sorry she wanted this autograph

while behind black glass the star says Go
and Mick spins     fender-swiped      loses his balance

crashes       catching his knee     his arm     
then his face splashes asphalt

she runs across the semi-darkness
arms rising to her face in shock      until she cradles

his head     his face in blue-white light
lips swelling      gritty     eyes unfocused

he lurches up     she takes his weight
becomes his crutch     

they stagger as one     on three legs 
his right shoe fills with dark red

he’d meant to show her what 
he’d still do for her      traffic splatters by

despite her stupid marriage
her bittersweet life      even her kids

“I’m sorry,” she says
a red light casts its crimson tint

he wants to say he’s okay
his lips don’t work

her umbrella’s gone      dropped
or washed away?      she looks down

sees his pant leg darkening
blood sloshing out his shoe

she leans him against a drugstore’s
corrugated steel face

her eyes full of awe
he mangles the question,

“Broken glass?”
		“You didn’t have to—” 

freed by the cold pain 
in his lips     his knee 

his eyes gaze into hers
and hers hold him     mesmerized

by what he means
and her voice    can’t open

her mouth trembles
and he knows

white rain through streetlight roars      
a perfect excuse

to finally put her lips by his ear
“I’m sorry—”

he hears what she’s never said
he tries so hard to hear 

that a silence blooms between 
her face and his

even the gutters go quietly
“I never told you...

I would—” 
		He wakes up utterly

despite his draining blood 
his lips     shiver but ask

“Would you, still?”
it’s unbearable to think

what she might say     or not
equally unbearable to not hear

then she can’t hold it back
sinks her face in his neck

lips tremulous      sobs opening her mouth
arms hugging too hard

and it is hopeless      and he knows it
her breathing desperate      

but it is a pure despair     
that answers, “Always... always.

If only
          we could be—”

and her breaking goes straight through him
       a wave he can’t stop drowning in

they have one soul
 	      but they’re submerged



until he hears the rain music 
				return