Issue 14
Startled By My Reflection at Dusk

Afternoon draws its purse strings, turns
a cold shoulder. There’s nothing left to buy
and even the windows are dark.

On the corner, some kids kick at the slush,
their laughter dull and metallic, as if
they already know what’s coming.

Once, we thought the night was something
to disappear into. And then, we thought

we’d grow up to own it, wear it
like a black velvet coat.