Poetry Friday - Valhalla

Valhallathe prison of their loving: in a crush,crammed in a booth, around a table withthe guys. loosened by beer, their elbows brush.they feel their closeness, breathe each other's breath.they talk about their grades and basketballand girls and cars, you know the kind of stuff.in a more perfect world, talk would be all,but in this one it isn't quite enough.if they could rise above their bodies'