The good girl learned everything she knew
From the bad boy. They would sit together
In a room, smoking cigarettes, drinking coffee,
Without a word between them for hours.
And they'd say at the end it was a great
Conversation. One that continued
After he died. Without coffee, without cigarettes.
They weren't needed any more.
Why do some come to this strange earth
Just to register pain?
Such were the questions the rest of us had,
All of them answered by wreckage,
But we learn more from that anyway
Than from words.
