Knox Dawn Breaks

I’m thinking about how I wish

it didn’t leave my mouth so easily,

this suggestion of begging;

like the life I wanted to leave behind

still lives in me like a stowaway,

when I hear a familiar voice:

Hey, man, me and my boyfriend ran

out of gas and we need to get home

to take care of my mom who’s sick. Can you

spot us a few bucks?

And I recognize the technique—the little extra lie

offered purely for the sake of lying; the love

of the game. Hell, the first part might not

even be a lie at all. After all, we were always

running out of gas—

it’s both unbelievable to me

and the most believable thing

in the world that they’d end

up here too.

It’s Dawn, and I wish I meant the sun

peeking fresh and golden above

the horizon to herald a new day, but no,

I mean Dawn, the one who robbed

Sylvie; who slapped her and pushed her

into the dirt; who left her feeling

alone and afraid and reminded her

that this world is filled

with jackals and pirates.

Adrenaline sears the walls

of my chest and my pulse spikes

like when I can hear

the buzzing of a wasp inside

the car but I can’t see it,

because this sandcastle I’ve built

with Sylvie? I know Dawn well enough

to be certain she’ll kick it over

for the pleasure of stealing

something she can’t possess.

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