from down in Florida,
who hit me up
looking for trouble in Brooklyn.
So I took her to Paul Gee's,
The Moonlight Mile,
places I know from this life
and the last.
She got drunk,
I did not.
She slept in my bed,
I barely dreamed.
The next morning,
she put me inside of her,
sex becoming a practical fallback
between friends who are sad.
We went to breakfast at Early,
not discussing the cum,
but I wondered if this
is what she meant when she asked for trouble.
We went to WORD,
and both bought books
that will remind us
of this trouble forever.