Photo by Manny Fortin on Unsplash

Montréal

A poem about a late night

we caught the last train home
greasy dollar pizza slice
we laughed down the sidewalk alone
in a city we didn’t know
with people we knew just enough
to know that it would be okay
there was no cover
but we uncovered that we couldn’t dance
didn’t stop us from dancing anyways
we didn’t know how fast
things would change even though
things felt like they could go on forever
in a never ending night.