Our Escape

I had planned our escape:
a matter of days, but

I said wait:
I have plans.

It can’t possibly be that
I left her in our neighborhood
thinking there’d be more time

I am sick. I see the sirens, and
I have a bad feeling. No, I
don’t want to look at this.

She lies on our sweet street, and
they put tape around her, and
the blood bullet casings are labeled.

There are news cameras everywhere,
and lights

I can’t even approach the scene, because
there are complications, and

there’s no way to tell the world
that I loved her.