We went by the book
We read about the victors on our grandmother’s stoop
There shouldn’t be a reason that we didn’t succeed
There shouldn’t be a reason we would end up as thieves
Mischief. Sideways look.
Whatever’s in your thought balloon blow it to me
In a kiss. The caption read, “Nothing...Lipstick, a little blood”
To blot away with your handkerchief
He has an awkward laugh (we know)
He'll take you by surprise (we know)
We lost everything
We started drinking coffee black after that
A moth in the subway car is far more of a threat
Than anything you’d catch in a butterfly net.
After all this time
You learn to tell the story accordingly
You manage to avoid a sense of duplicity
You manage to forget that we would end up as thieves.