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It is currently below zero, and even if it isn’t, I can’t discern between the single digits. Breath catches in frozen pitches, the concrete packed with snow, covering icy patches hiding in darkness like pit vipers.
The bite of the fall isn’t gravelly anymore.
Bittersweet sheets pierce through a shaky veneer, and all that is left is the all encompassing night, distant stars dotting the city’s orange glow. The horizon is as it always is, and as I hazard to think, always will be.
It is this that connects and intertwines fleeting moments, allows us the chance to somehow imagine their fabric magic still having a hold, still plucking heartstrings from better times.
Let the smoke of the cigarette and my breath become indecipherable.
Excuse me; a street lamp calls my name.
It is currently below zero, and even if it isn’t, I can’t discern between the single digits. Breath catches in frozen pitches, the concrete packed with snow, covering icy patches hiding in darkness like pit vipers.
The bite of the fall isn’t gravelly anymore.
Bittersweet sheets pierce through a shaky veneer, and all that is left is the all encompassing night, distant stars dotting the city’s orange glow. The horizon is as it always is, and as I hazard to think, always will be.
It is this that connects and intertwines fleeting moments, allows us the chance to somehow imagine their fabric magic still having a hold, still plucking heartstrings from better times.
Let the smoke of the cigarette and my breath become indecipherable.
Excuse me; a street lamp calls my name.
