Rent Poem by Faith Wood

I took your hand in mine
but you yanked it away and pointed to the stars
They're so distant, but they shine like headlights
Bright enough to see, but not close enough to reach
And it happened all at once,
I fell hard on the pavement
and you ran in the opposite direction,
ignoring all road signs
and paying your way from the rent earned on your heart
But if it was me, I would rather be an owner, than a renter
You could be my house and I could be your sky
but I'm in a puddle on the ground
moving at the pace of an ocean wave
And as the tip curls and the water breaks,
I screen the crowd in search of you
At the last moment, your face appears staring back at me
from an open elevator
I frantically move my legs to get to you in time,
but the doors close on me, and so do your eyes.