Spill

Another Saturday night in panic town: something stalked the streets, weaved between the drunks, danced around like a kingless jester, driving us closer together and further apart. We gorged on each other’s weaknesses. My ugliest face crowded out theirs. A wormfeast night. Every homeward footprint left a stain. I drew the curtains tight against the dawn. Later that day a storm gathered, and from the spill my heart stole joy like the thief it is.