her text says, so painfully loud,
I have to cover my ears to keep from going deaf,
as loud in m head as that scream over the phone
she made after I fled from her at the bar.
“Take it down!” she texts again. “Now!”
I picture the picture I took of a sign
she believes I posted as a threat,
and I feel appropriately guilty,
knowing I should not have
put it up in the first place,
not sure why I did,
this blast from the past
not at all mine,
a sign I passed beneath along that sidewalk
all those times before and after meeting her,
then inconsequential,
now as blatant at a Times Square billboard.
“Take it down!”
Eventually, full of guilt,
I do just one more stupid stunt
in a life full of them.
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