we sat in the car in the heat of summer;
you told me I handled it badly, very badly,
that December night at 1 a.m., the
following January when all the repercussions
came home to roost and there was so much
uncertainty and fear.
and in the moment I turned to look at you,
I knew in that instant that I didn’t care
what you thought, that I had lost all
respect for you, that your words were
the echo of hypocrisy, the words of someone
who had never lived and had never loved.
I never saw you again.