A Cruel City, A Kind Day
I wrote you a letter. A novel of a letter. Ten years to tell of. The fire that made a dark smear of the home we once shared. The two years in Ybor. I thought I saw you there in a little latin cafe. I spilled my cafe sabor rising to speak your name. My face white. It was a woman with your haircut. Not you. Write back. A few words. Please….
Come down to Zippy’s Java Lounge on Thursday at 7p.m. for The Spot, an Open Mic. Share a poem or a song.
