Black Friday Night

Ryan Scariano

My jade plant start loves the logic
of streetlamps. She wants to prosper,
to grow under the moonlight.
She wants to shine off the gleam
in the snow. She feels what I feel
burning in the soft electric glow
from the Christmas lights
across the road. She wants to bloom.
For her, during even the darkest
hours, I will leave up the blinds.
She wants to sing her delicate white
stars through my steamy window and
out into the midnights of
a blessed and fortunate new year.

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