A Night with Andrea Gibson

By Logan Rush Compau

I got on the bus after she declared her heart
and within my veins her words now live
we never wanted to leave her
but all nights must turn
and her poems were delicate while mine are rough
and though you don’t need to express in poem
it sure does get people to listen
to the terrible tragedy because
as we speak we’re breathing inaudible reasons
why bus stops make the feelings worse
or why we think our lives make us look fat
and covered in worlds of misunderstood nights
with oh so common terrors
and as I text this for lack of pen
we should know we have that place
between skies of crows and dusk
And understood mornings with sun dried docks