, , ,

when the police officer comes

to your window, you ask him why

he is wounded.  He

looks the other way and

the snow begins to fall on his

shoulder.  He pulls a cigarette out

of your top pocket, but doesn’t have a lighter.  He

looks straight into your eyes

and without asking pulls the

burning embers out of your dashboard

and confesses

to being an addict of all that

is not allowed.  You don’t know

how to help him, but you

want it with all of your heart.