on hammond street

tonight i ran down empty streets and howled at the moon so tenderly i caused myself heartache.

tonight i ran ‘til my freedom was speared by my too-big platform mary janes

(i think i sprained my ankle.)

and now i'm sitting here like a fool

on the snow-dusted sidewalk

where my clothes cling to me wet and damp like gooseflesh

in the dark of new england winter

(because they don't pay taxes or something here—the assholes—so the streetlights flicker and struggle against themselves.)

(isn’t chestnut hill supposed to be wealthy? i digress.)

but still! my heady glee persists. back to that part,

throbbing ankle notwithstanding:

my body is freezingburningglistening with the evening fog's condensation and

it's soothing the tighttighttightness of my skin,

stretched over a heartbeat in my earsstomachfingertips

and now it's all getting to be too much.

and now i am almost afraid of myself.

and now i know what it is to love and to be loved.