Gravestones

Good gracious.You again. And it is always you asking to borrow cigarettes and time. We are exhaling on the curb. Mouths heating with a debate. Yellow town lights bleed desperate wings against our faces. Testimonies of a good man tonight. The “Jesus Camp” story, stoicism and smoke smiles.My mother shot a man. The ember pinches your fingertips with a desperate kiss.Does that make her a bad woman? We all die. Does it matter?