International young adults walking through the city night
telling stories that end in wit and regret:
-our memories overseas, encounters with domestic lovers
seeing truths about ourselves and the world:
-our astrological placements and society’s racial cleverness
“I’ll probably write a poem about this tomorrow”
so where do I start? Maybe at your destination
which really is intentions that you carry around.
So the things you want to achieve wait–
a burden plummeting you into regret
the city night is a greedy, attentive audience
we never know who it brings our stories to.
So, maybe we’re not really strangers
after all, my stars prophesied about you
I’m sitting on a rock. You describe the effects of your sister;
the shadow, each time you finally fix the attention onto you
this mark from birth lingers. So your failures exalt her glory.
You speak to me like you knew we shared the same story.
Leave this night, along with the stories it summons
Take me around the world, around your world.
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