shallow walls, thin doors.
How many ways to say I miss you?
I’ve tried more than two too many
but none of it ever satisfies
I passed two small black boys
buying cookies from a white woman
and her two small sons. It was 3 cookies
for 50 cents. She was pouring lemonade
but I did not see the pricing. The little
black boys were shirtless, and one had
red shorts. The woman and her white sons
had on shirts though, and they were squinting
into the sun against a tan bricked Chase bank.
It was a local lemonade stand of sorts,
in Manhattan, on the upper West side.