2:04 am


we talk about
living
and waiting
and wishing
and aging.
punks hiding
in the dark
on the cold concrete
near a busy street;
share a stolen cigarette
lit by stolen matches
drunk off stolen liquor.
lovely little ladies
little liars
little loners
little stoners
complaining
and comparing
and contrasting
and contemplating.
reunions
cold feet
smokey words
plastic spoons,
drugs
and hugs
and
"see you soon"s.
repeat it every week
different times,
different places,
sharing jackets
kissing cheeks
of familiar faces.
crosswalks and
cheap food
late at night
we all get bolder,
this is what it feels like
getting older.