nothing she could tell me

she said it with anger and a three-martini lisp
sat out on the balcony of the old new orleans hotel
it hit
knocked the breath out of me
watching her there
cool
resolved
unflinching commitment to flight
*if i pay for you too*
she had lost the point and the needle
woven a story of her life before us
how happy she was in planes and strange cities
running drinking celebrating with others
a grand tradition
sporting enthusiasts
traveling to tournaments and runs to be alone
get away
get through
it was easier if you didn’t bring anyone along
self-sufficiency as a defense and lifeway
she wanted someone along
enjoyed the kisses
as the evening’s silver elixir worked magic
i often became a prince or a spoiling cad
one more ought to get things smoothed over
maybe
i should leave
her

alone again

4-4-24

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