I shiver within the comforting confines of my tattered jacket;
the ragged hood embracing my head
and partially obscuring my face.
Suddenly grateful for the poor lighting;
pumpkin-orange opaque and *****, a parking lot
nearly swallowed by the encroaching nighttime.

You are confused by my excess emotions again.
I can tell by your expression;
impatience folding slowly over your countenance
and your clenching hands needing to hold a
cigarette in order to relax or become distracted.

In silence and my own discomfort,
I look up at the sky and can see the stars