we kissed once in the backseat
of a dull yellow taxi with
love in our suitcases and mouths

then, another in the backstreets of brooklyn
as the boys hooted at us and whistled
hollering under their hoops

"****, y'all lookin' fine"
and we raised our middle fingers
like it was a salute to the gods

i know this is overused
it feels like just yesterday but
years have passed in a blink

perhaps i am just selfish
but i have yet to move on
i still cannot ride a taxi alone

hope sits silently and oh, how it watches
silently from the seat across from me
clinging to what is left of me