We met before cell phones and email existed.
You passed me notes in class
I folded gum wrappers into birds and goblets.
We tagged up on benches along the Brooklyn Promenade.
You bought me a Prince album
And a pair of Silver Nefertiti bracelets.
We went for long walks in Central Park after School
Before and after Central Park 5.
You paid to send me home in a taxi one night
from Brooklyn to the Bronx.
You with two cats and a corn snake
You did your senior project on the Mau Mau freedom fighters.
Me with a pink radio in the drawer of my captain’s bed.
And the audacity to compare Pat Conroy to Richard Wright.
We were safe and took things slow.
We made mixtapes and met on Montague Street.
I went off the deep end
And you joined the Navy.
You got married
And I got engaged.
You got divorced
And I got married.
You’re gone forever.
But to me,
you’re still in Brooklyn.