Seven Feet Apart
She said I'm dying. I said I know. We all are.
No, she said, I'm dying quicker than I should be-
quicker than most. We were on opposite sides of the couch.
There were seven feet between us.
This couch could pay my rent for a year.
She said her friend stole from her.
I said we all steal from everyone.
Everything is borrowed, I said.
She said her friend was a sociopath. I asked how much she took.
That bitch took twenty dollars, she said.
She said she liked being so high up
because she could look down at everyone on the street.
There is always someone to look down on
no matter how high up you are, I said.
She rolled her eyes, stubbed out a cigarette,
and threw it out of the window, onto the people below.
She said she couldn't be alone. I said we are always alone.
She said she meant physically. I asked her what the difference was.
"Physical warmth". I said I find that warmth frightening.
She said she didn't care. I said warmth like that
was meant for animals.
We sat on the couch, seven feet apart.
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