You wander down the hallway Feeling something shiver inside of you You wonder what this feeling might be And suddenly an image of his face Pierce your corneas A second later He is there And when you pass in the hallway He looks at you sideways Widens his eyes. You furrow your brow Lift the corners of your lips Tilt your head You mention how you always see him in this hallway He considers you. Then. He says it is God’s will You get the wind knocked out of you You know that it shows on your face He dismisses you But not before you say that you agree That it is God’s will You take your casual leave Calling him by his nickname Stepping into the elevator You remember he calls himself a liberal You hug yourself You wonder if he sees his God in you You remember he was born on Palm Sunday You chuckle to yourself You walk past your roommates You feel their eyes on your back You sit down and eat your dinner You stand at the window You watch the buildings bleed onto the streets Manhattan swirls underneath you There are points of light on little moving objects The cars and the people The colors and the lights The smoke and the sky The city pulsates, the city snarls Eager for you to take the streets You gaze out your window And so, you decide, it is It is God’s will and just exactly who Are you To deny it?