at the breve counter where my debit card declined to cover my large with an extra shot, she stood strangely close in faded scrubs of scentless lavender and violet, an unrepentant stare catechizing my face
You have a green light that burns all night on the end of your dock ... It had seemed as close as a star to the moon ... It couldn't be over-dreamed ... [It] was a deathless song.