Virginia, 1995

— Brianna Albers

So it is you & a boy in a bar.
One of you is a god, or a martyr,
  or maybe you’re both a reflection
    & this is akin to chrysalis. You have
  to understand: This is not the first
time. Causality, balanced, knife-
point. You will never be here again.
It is you & a boy in a bar & something
cracks through: half-formed, mewling.
      Inevitability. This, too, a lesson.
You are seeking something mythical.
              A way to cheat death.
                  A gun to the head.
      You are a cultivation of jagged
stigmata. The night blurs honey-
  wine. It is you & a boy in a bar
    & he is never what you want him
to be. Only she can give you that.
      The boy in the bar is a prelude.
You are nothing more than transient.

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