October 22, 2018

Friday passes in a cold, light shower,
lulled by the false pretense of productivity.
Communal grogginess nurses my hangover,
yet we remain.
We put off lunch with pocky sticks and making fun of our boss.
The boat ride home is silent,
the sun bows its head behind the oncoming fog of winter.

Original.
New York City, Intern for Bookstr

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