Eyes meet the way southwestern rain collides with dust.
Standing there painted white like a goddess on a milk crate
At the corner of Hollywood and Vine,
You remind me of Cabo in 2010
With sand in the sheets, in the shower
a TV program I never cared for
And the smell of him still clinging to my jacket.
Passerby is shouting, “Get a job!”
But you see me
Elevate me in that fixed gaze
Street traffic and the stars disappear.