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You remind me of a wet New York, a summer of oily lights on the roads, of concerts in the park and the white, loving claustrophobia in the sky, you remind me of standing at a window fourteen floors up watching cars on FDR in the darkness, hoping that one of them is yours, you remind me of sirens always, you remind me of a confidante in an alleyway stale with garbage always, you remind me of subways and dark knowledge the length and width of a city always, you remind me of crossing a bridge over grey water and pewter boats. It is hard for me to let go of the city even as it dampens in the slate rain; and the stretched clouds are pulled down over the highrises of love.
0
Feb 12, 2012
Feb 12, 2012 at 10:57 AM UTC
You remind me.
You remind me of a wet New York, a summer of oily lights on the roads, of concerts in the park and the white, loving claustrophobia in the sky, you remind me of standing at a window fourteen floors up watching cars on FDR in the darkness, hoping that one of them is yours, you remind me of sirens always, you remind me of a confidante in an alleyway stale with garbage always, you remind me of subways and dark knowledge the length and width of a city always, you remind me of crossing a bridge over grey water and pewter boats. It is hard for me to let go of the city even as it dampens in the slate rain; and the stretched clouds are pulled down over the highrises of love.
Waverly
Written by
35/M/American
Feb 12, 2012
Feb 12, 2012 at 10:57 AM UTC
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