Nighttime calls and
we creep down the
hallway barefoot.
The bottoms of our
feet slapping against
the tile floors,
dodging heroin needles
as we ascend the stairs.
You carry my white blanket
met by humid air
city lights from the main
strand in Schenectady
illuminate the rooftop.
You lay the blanket down.
We talk about the possibility
of forever.
We listen to EDEN play
on your phone as water drops
on our heads from the awning
above us. You tell me you
love me and my stomach churns
in disbelief, because
I’m the only one certain that
this would be one of those
things that ended badly.
Samantha Zimmerman is a small-town New York poet who loves experimenting with creative non-fiction when she isn't crocheting or cuddling her pet beagle, Lyric. She is the current Managing Editor of Pine Hills Review and has two interviews published on the site with Dylan Krieger and Christina Olson.