Written by Jacob Ibrag
We’d look at each other from across the room.
No long stares, just sudden glances. Long enough
exchanges to last us every few seconds till we can’t
wait and resort to another hit of acknowledgment.
An hour into bad music and failed dancing techniques
and you’re still watching me from another corner of
this milky way galaxy. Tired of waiting for you to
make the first move, so my feet do this thing where
they go in front of one another to create the sense
of progression. I think people call it walking.
Losing words as I am my patience, fighting
through a wave of violent public displays of
affection. Finally reaching my destination
and I discover your lips on my best
friend. You were praying for her
while I was playing pretend.
Photography by Mike Monaghan