The lemon of her lips is making this sour kiss sweet.
The sugar king is cradling her broken back.
He's back out on the street,
sifting through the cans and the Coke bottles
trying to find her feet.
Dance again?
These shoes are old.
Like ballet slippers from when she was a little girl.
Who cares?
Life is short.
He remembers yellow taxi cabs and lemonade stands.
She tried to sell homemade wine until she was called in for supper.
The street lights were coming on, but she had a crinkled dollar bill.
The transistor radio was sinking in the ocean.
How did he ever think he would find the author of that lullaby
he used to listen to as a child,
hiding the music underneath his pillow
pretending to snore
when footsteps came?
It takes so. much. strength. to make lemonade,
twisting the half fruit and then pouring portion after portion into the jug.
It takes so. much. combing. to make the hair straight,
then smooth it out like Chinese paper before dividing it into three's.