Questions and Answers

Gene Stashuk, Michael Becker

I stand ignored in an unmarked doorstep
Strike a match with my fingers shaking
Fallen buildings, running faces
Turned away from a white-skinned stranger
Questions–no answers
Secretive glances, glances

I want to cry out, I want to stop them
I want to ask them, "Have you seen her?"
I lack the language, right inflection
On my cold lips, burn my questions
Questions and answers
Taking my chances, chances

I fight the doubt that lived within
It lurks beneath the surface, twisting
My words are tied behind my back
A mocking echo of regret

I have your picture in my pocket
A silent whisper of your mystery
I crawl the pavement like a viper
Like a shadow lost inside me

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