on a cold night in aprilyou eat free ice cream
and listen to an inebriated twenty-something
tell you that you're part of his brotherhood.
standing next to an assumed member of this underground vein,
you knowingly smirk at how he doesn't fit.
and neither do you.
nodding and interjecting at all the right places
the drunk wanders off, content to find some meaning.
walking back with your brother,
cold hand in warm hand,
you blankly realize that you envy him
for finding the purpose you've lost.
run and burn,
quench the thirst
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