The Bay Area - one month and 8 days after

I am in the city that stole you 

The city that took you 

The city that watched your body be smacked by metal 

You died in this city 

And I am here in the after 

I am here glue sticking myself together 

Staying indoors so as not to catch a whiff of your spirit in the wind 

I will never be curious about this city like I once was

I was here the day Dr. Angelou died too

I am here 


Mourning you 

My body has never ached like it pains here 

I am carrying the memory of you in my spine 

You have always been a standup guy

The last time we made love was here 

In a hotel around the corner on Sutter

You experienced my body like the first visit to a museum 

You were in no rush you drank me in 

The last time I was here I gave you no notice

I didn’t see you but we promise next time 

This is next time 

And here I am 

In this fancy hotel alone 

Wishing anyone in this city loved me like you 

Wishing you would appear 

Hands calling out to my own

Arms open to receive my grief 

How will this longing for you ever cease? 

When it goes, what will be left? 

Will this city always be a spotted record 

A place I avoid? 

These streets hold memories of men and love and loss 

Holds pieces of my broken heart 

Holds the imprint of your body bruised and damaged 

But not dead 

Until you died

You died

And I am left with this miserable city, to stare at through 11th-floor hotel windows that have been painted shut.

view from the Drake window