2006

A man I loved asked me to come to the Bronx once
He had soft lips and a voice that melted my every defense.

I found out from someone else that he had passed, years ago, that the drugs won and he never left that going-nowhere job to do what he meant to.

I still think I see him in the streets sometimes, 

often, 

he remains here somehow. 

New York holds on to its ghosts at will.