Wendy pours coffee into a foam
cup for a man who reads the paper
with his back against the lowest window
of a skyscraper.
She sits in the wings of the community
theater and watches her friends
pace around in costumes and have fake
arguments about made up people.
She waits on a bench with a cigarette
and watches the skateboarders fail
which is always punctuated with blood
or the occasional scream.
When you finally show up she is disappointed
that you took so long, and holds her fist against
the center of your chest.
You know you aren’t enough for her,
and so you stumble through an apology
and promise from now on to do your best.