Let's talk about the girl,
who wasn't ready for the nights events,
ashamed of the fact that she didn't know the right words, or gestures to prove herself worthy.
Let's talk about the boy,
keeping a pace comparable to roaring waves,
inviting himself into a place he wasn't welcome.
Let's talk about the word "please",
how it fell off his tongue like cinnamon; coating the surface of her uncertainty with promises of a tomorrow.
Let's talk about the street lights,
radiating like a warning,
whispering: run.
Let's talk about regret,
humming her to sleep,
reminding her of the view from a dark street
screaming: you deserve more than this.