I Made Friends with the Night

A poem about meeting lonely people

I made friends with the Night 

At a party thrown by a mutual friend

We took out the Scrabble board

The first word that she played was "Lonely."

Her phone number was 7 digits of who-knows what

Sort of like my weeks were turning out to be

Her phone number was 7 digits of monotony-shattering-cat-calling-pure.-unadulterated.-mystery.-

Her ineffability was just so 

But if I pursue the Night-

If I know the Night-

My naivety keeps her Lovely

The End

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