sometime around two

hammering at the door

stones on the window

shouts in the street

old habits checking

without moving the curtain

it wasn’t the police

it was her

again

tottering on high heels

waving her arms around

let me in you bastard!

let me in!

when I opened the door

she pushed by

like the place was hers

& once upon a time

it just might’ve been

where’s the ashtray?

get me a drink

all orders commands

& I had no idea

how she got here

in those high heeled shoes

& more urgent

just what did she want

beyond the drink an ashtray?

you were in bed at 2am?

on a Saturday night?

yer getting old!

& she cackled

trying to sink the old needle

there between my ribs

I got her a drink an ashtray

asked her straight out

what did she want?

just come to see an old friend

is that a bad thing?

so we sat for a while

talking of nothing

not a thing given or taken

until she nodded off

in my old comfy chair

I checked the room for stealables

& softly left her there

to be gone in the morning

just the stink of cigarettes

worn off alcohol

& maybe a hint of perfume

lingered

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