Ashes

Matt Hilgenberg '97

contributor

	
Young bitch slides
through the crowd, returning
to chastise me
but I'm too busy lighting
another cigarette
 -ashes fall to the floor
   mixing pain with dirt and wood-
"I could," I say, looking anywhere 
but at her.
She asks to talk, but where was she
when I needed that?
Out for a walk (with some other dude).
So I could be rude, but I give her a chance
cause she likes to think 
she's got me wrapped up like a sweet
candy apple that loves to be eaten.
"I'm a fool for love, baby"
her soft hand sliding into mine.
Her rings are cold, her pulse slow.
"No."  Not this time.
Go find some other dude
and go make love to his
poetry.  Too late for you and me,
My words hang in the warm party air
as I put out my last cigarette
and search the room for another.	


			

This article represents the thoughts of its author, not the Trincoll Journal, nor Trinity College, and not necessarily the reader! This article may be reproduced only with expressed written consent of the Trincoll Journal. Send E-mail to: Journal@mail.trincoll.edu for more information. © 1994, Trincoll Journal.