Monday, October 8, 2012

Altared Boys

He set up the lines.

I could hear the tap
of his credit card
against the top of the swamp cooler
of the church.

He went first,
I sniffed next.

We immediately
broke into a conversation
that lasted
the whole night.

We even
did a lil
in the bathroom stall.

I don't remember
much
after
that.

I never saw him again.

He went on
being shady
somewhere.

I went on
being creepy
everywhere else,
with the thought that
I'd never see him again.

Perfect.

The perfect exit.

The perfect memory.

The perfect church.

Amen.

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