And so she ran away.

She was the last of them.
The last of those pretty girls,
one of those girls that shine relentlessly upon lonely afternoons.
They can't help it. They shine.

She was one of those golden nuggets that appear in old fables,
in delicate sopranos hitting their high notes,
in the empty hallways of my beaten mind.
She was sunshine in a bottle, sunshine in my hands.

She was sunshine.
She had to be,
I saw her grace in filthy bars,
in empty subway stations,
in long cigarette puffs.

I saw her run away.
Far away,
into the cracks of every sidewalk,
into the mess of it all,
away from my warmth and
my two dollar smile.

These walls keep on missing your fingers,
my mood swings keep getting worse,
I sleep on your side of the bed
and soup will never be the same.

I keep still and look at the people.
All of them lost, hungry and bored,
looking forward to their next meal,
their next beer,
their next sunshine.

I do too.

And so she ran away.
She did.

I did too.