It's midnight when I uncap my offering
To that ebony goddess big cities love
And all honors students must befriend
I drink deep the dancing liquid and hope
She will hear my desperate prayer

One more hour, two at most is all I plead
My fingers pause as she hits my bloodstream
Buzzing like a child's pair of magnet stones
I turn to write but her fingers grip me tight
My heart stutters, awake but not all right

She prefers those ragged college students
Who take their coffee black in the back
Ways of alleys in shops too small for most
To find with their fraying copies of Voltaire
Propped open then balanced on hairy knees

Not fragile bodies with heart disease who
Slept from four to nine on a school night
And forgot the essay due in their least favorite
Class taught by a teacher propped up by the
Stacks of empty “teacher of the month” awards

Her midnight skin blocks out the light as
I struggle to the kitchen with an empty cup
Guzzling water as she stares at me and mouths
“I am not yours and you are not mine” fading
Leaving my essay too small and undone