The Infinite Protector

The Infinite Protector

My date got wasted on absinthe on NYE, so you walked us home.

It was him, you and me, walking abandoned streets of downtown Miami.

Out of a humid haze appeared a low-rider with dark purple paint falling off in flecks.

I moved closer to him, but he cowered and slowed his pace. 

I felt exposed, naked, to whatever faces were behind the dark tinted windows.

A black snapback, a sweaty forehead, dark eyes with lost irises, a pronounced nose, a half-smirk. 

As they revealed themselves, you put your bear arms around me so no part was exposed.

Screeching breaks. Yelling. Words I'd never been called before. 

They sped off, only to return with even more creative words to call women. You looked back to make sure my date was still alive, and then quickened our own pace.

Throbbing head. Shaking legs. Muffled words asking if I was okay. Soft pillow. Your shoes outside my door, guarding it for the rest of the night.

You died last night, on the same Miami streets that our ghosts still haunt. And once again, I felt exposed, naked, to whatever faces are behind the dark tinted windows I will walk by in this life. 

But then I felt your bear arms around me. Now you will always be protecting me, from the sky. 

Rest in peace, A. 

<3 M.

The 8

The 8

The Ghost Of A Ghost (Of A Ghost)

The Ghost Of A Ghost (Of A Ghost)