We’re standing in the lamplight

together while a friend

of ours rests her forehead

on the pavement.

 

We want to go home, but

she has to pray.

 

She keeps begging for your

forgiveness, taking your hand,

and you’re staring at me

like she isn’t even there.

 

I’m oscillating between being

chilled by theĀ late

October air and being

 

set on fire by artificial

lighting and the accidental

piety of sky

blue eyes.

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