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Jul 6
when you’ve woken from a nap induced by higher clouds,
wiped the sleep & the party from your eyes and chip crumbs from your chin

it’s 3:42, the hours flew for fun is a catalyst & time was constructed by your misty mind
but eventually the fog lifts & you’re left with cans & roaches & thirst &

you have to go back to the brutal back break of reality, the back to back
books, to second skin day jobs, to trying to squeeze in something worthwhile

like tonight when the moon wasn’t full but your hearts & cups were
& you learned to love songs that sounded like serotonin

you relearned the way that laughter heals apprehension
you danced around strangers, let things be easy for a second

but haziness dulls & the beer coat comes off, you remember tomorrow, you realize it’s cold
& your jacket’s at home buried under obligations, so you borrow one that doesn’t quite fit,

lace up high tops, check for phone keys & wallet, mumble awkward goodbyes
to fellow late night stragglers & to the hillary who remembers to inhale
hillary litberg
Written by
hillary litberg  21/F/California
(21/F/California)   
65
 
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