“I always wonder where the sharpies come from”
The words saluting across the cardboard
(ragged for effect)
said “Everyone could use a little help sometimes.
Thank you.”
Our eyes touched through the window,
him squatting on the concrete with a paper cup and
weariness,
me perched on the summit of a barstool chair in Starbucks,
with hot tea, Virginia Woolf, and
guilt.
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