What Castle

I was sick I was cold I was sad
The lights were behind the scene and people endlessly coming out of cars
Legs first. Especially legs in tights, those of comfortable girls.
And there was the queen of the pavement you couldn’t move her
She was proud and when she yelled it smelled like mint but not really
And the men were no were to be seen so she yelled even more
Queen of her castle
Children high on crack fell in her arms
Bright blue bags on their backs, no more tears.
Part of that tribe that never knew the taste of salt
The pleasure of letting go.
No balance for me to find and the queen still yelling
I was sick I was cold I was sad and the city just passed by
The tights and the legs of the girls were just going home and they didn’t see
The way they devoured the pavement while they walked, they didn’t feel didn’t know, didn’t mind
Me there and the cold. Didn’t want to care.
I was scared the queen would fall apart
Her glass first on the ground spilling it’s milky looking mint. French liquor.
Cutting her black skin and letting her red blood run out of her beautiful body
Perhaps the men had gone. Perhaps there were none. The legs could go on.