She talked me into this walk, her me and him. Third wheeling it through town like nobody’s business though it’s mine because he kisses her three times in front of the restaurant when she tries to back away. When he leaves she’ll be new and she’ll point out flowers in the park and say, These are Orchids! And I’ll have no idea how she knows because I thought they were some kind of rarified lily, some kind of south carolina magic.

               He sulks almost the whole day and won’t tell her what’s wrong even when we get to                   the zoo and I forget to lie about my age so we can’t go in. We have to walk all the                       way back and she swears to God that her converses are burning off and all he                             does is say, well maybe you shouldn’t have worn them.

The next day I’ll get a text from her saying that he’s worried again because she’s been talking to another boy, and the day after I’ll get a text from her saying that he called nine times today, and now I got a text from her saying they’re over, and I’m not saying I knew it was coming but I knew something was up when his eyes didn’t linger on the lashes of hers.

               As soon as he’s gone and after the flowers she finds red lights in the bottoms of the                   Fountains and little carved initials in some of the trees                                                               Tracing her fingers over the swoop of a C and the criss cross of a T                                             She looks at me, with his kisses on her lips, and says, speak of me like I walked                         Away. And I will nod and speak of her like a street preacher speaks of God.                                 Hands to the heavens, feet firm on the ground.