I ask for a cigarette and you look at me, stunned. I ask again, and I can see that you need an explanation. I need to pray. You give me one.
Into the cold, wind-ridden night we forge. You light yours and I borrow your lighter. Fuck my wings and this wind.
I lean on the porch railing, tuning out my drunkeness, the laughter, the questions directed at me. I pray.
Dearest angels and guides, please help me. Please. Help me find work that nourishes, a relationship that honors and cherishes, a passion that burns, and a new kitten. I really want another kitten. And another drink.
Drunkeness always wins.