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