the movement of cold evenings

We wait there tonight
by the stretch of walkway
turned algae green, and cracked
by the aching seasons
moving as if liquid.

We wait there tonight
in the grasping arms
of drunken stumbles
and mislaid grace.

We wait there tonight
as the subtler dances break down
on broken sidewalks we part ways
with glancing kiss
another night alone.

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