Curb Dreamer

“I used to think I was gay.”
She sits on a curb and lights a cigarette.
“Really?” he responds, not knowing what more to say.
“Yeah but I’m not.” And then she starts to regret
She puffs away, hardly taking a break
“Why do you follow me around?” she asks him
“Because you're weird and I’m a fake.”
“You never make any sense”
“Would you rather be awake?”
“Did I tell you about the time I…yeah I did”
“I was there” “you're always there”
“Can I have the rest of that cig?”
“Yeah, I don’t need anymore”
She walks away as if the hounds of hell are licking at her heels.
He takes a drag off the handy habit.
An unfamiliar taste on his lips.
He watches her walk away and whispers and hopes that she’ll hear it.
“I can taste your scarlet lipstick on the filter.”
He knows she heard him as she turns around
A tear in her eye and a slow in her breath.
He hates it and glances to the ground
He catches up and stops beside her.
“I used to think I loved you”
She sniffs and lights a cigarette.
He doesn’t know to what or whom she’s referring.
They keep walking, only now in silence.