Stephanie Klein Greek Tragedy

He knows he can have me.  It’s something he won’t forget, like his own birthday.  He knows I’d leave you if he asked.  If he stepped up, said, “ready.”  If only he’d say so.  Save you from you.
 
He…

I’d felt that, against a cab window, so many times before you, in that thick heavy silence where you’re wondering what’s next.  Your movements are no longer casual; everything feels heavier.  I’m tired of my re-run nights of mistakes, of…

I saw it written on a tee-shirt.  I ought to have bought it and worn it.
I don’t want to know if your song is about me–
or if it’s something that I did yesterday.
I don’t want to know…

My day has been beats of modulated movement. A progression of chords moving to a harmonic close–a sense of resolution. Cadence. Maybe it’s the dandruff weather in the city today, but I miss college. At school, I never had to…