Reunion of Sorts by Jasen Sousa

Reunion of Sorts

“Can you come pick me up in Everett?” She says 

as her voice shakes

inside the speaker of my cell phone.

I walk up smoky stairs into a house party 

where I find her in the bedroom sniffing lines

through tightly rolled twenty dollar bills.  

“I’ll just be a few minutes,” she says 

as she leans over

and pecks me on my forehead.  

I sit on the edge of a strange unmade mattress.

“You want some?” Asks the skinny dude 

in a black wife beater with an unfinished tattoo on his bicep.  

“I’m good,” I say.

“We got some killa weed in the kitchen, you

got to try a hit,” says the dark skinned 

fat man who is probably older than my dad. 

“I’m good,” I say.

I hold my breath to try and keep out

the different flavors of smoke

that evaporate over my head.  

I watch her give the same pecks

to a bunch of guys as she clumsily

gets her stuff together.

She grabs me by the wrist

and leads me down 

the backstairs of the house.

She sits shotgun, rolls the window down,

tilts her knees to the side,

closes her eyes

about four different times.

“Can you turn the station?” she asks.

First Published

in

Somewhere Lost

Copyright © 2011 by Jasen Sousa

Copyright © All Rights Reserved by J-Rock Publishing

Library of Congress

Cataloging in Publication Data

ISBN  978-0-9714926-7-7