You looked lovely and cold as I passed you on the street the other day

some scratches

your green knit hat was pulled down
touching the red rims of your glasses
hands in fists dug deeply into your pocket
like you wanted to punch out the fabric

that’s probably why you didn’t see me

i gather all of my coffee grounds now
compost them on saturdays with apple cores
and banana peels, egg shells and the greens I
can’t seem to finish on my own anymore

did the freezing rain pelt your face like it did mine?

it looks uglier under the orange streetlight than
snow, stings more too
don’t know it’s under your feet
’til you hear the crunch, slip a little

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