The rest of the story

flying tent
He guided me up the mineral stairs
Into the public park or was it a secret garden?
And I followed him without question
Here, he said, we can make this right
If we could start right now
I would’ve followed him anywhere…
But, I can’t remember the rest of the story anymore
Except the lights over the magnificent city
Blinked incessantly that night
Even the bridge twinkled in red and white stars
The horns from the yellow cars
Filled the atmosphere with ambient sound
Like freeform jazz or was it just jarring noise?
He was holding me close to his heart
And, I suffered a kind of sickness which only comes from
Getting drunk on impossible love
Here, he told me, we should do this proper
We can make it work
And we kissed like high school kids
Holding on to our bottoms
Flapping like circus tents in the wind
I closed my eyes wanting to seal in the moment
Vowing never again to get drunk from
The citi. The noise. The stars. The rooftop.
The here. The work. The bridge. The end.
But, I can’t remember the rest of the story anymore

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