The kind you’re born with, the kind you choose, the kind that teach Catholic school
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That night they went to bed in air
swollen from the light of street lamps.
They embraced: they would make love,
they would be forever warmed.
They kissed. The sky flared.
He moved over her body like a priest
removing a curse.
In the morning, deep within the drift,
they listened for silence
but the city crunched and roared;
the plants, green as before,
shivered in the open window.
A few flurries spun to the dry pavement.