someone listens
to him say

“i am lonely
and no one listens.”

-

i once met an artist
and when we spoke
it sounded like two violins
resonating the sound
of the other

he could have
drawn me with
scars like graphite chips
and dust

smudges from
falling into his arms
and bruising my soul

-

i once met a photographer
who shared my appreciation
of film grain and light leaks

who could have
taken me

snapshots of a body
in afterglow
breathing smoke

all he ever wanted
and all he wouldn’t
take

-

i once met a boy
so lonely and so
desperate for affection

he was writing
poems
about boys he had met.

-

i am lonely, why aren’t you listening?