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NicolettePoems
Beneath the chin of your BK brownstone we’d sit bodies slung across steps eyes flung across skies city simmering in northern fog concrete cradling a northern frost the backdrop of 86th jetting above our heads you asked me if I still thought New York was all it was cracked up to be. Yes.
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Feb 2, 2013
Feb 2, 2013 at 1:19 PM UTC
Every Other Weekend
Beneath the chin of your BK brownstone we’d sit bodies slung across steps eyes flung across skies city simmering in northern fog concrete cradling a northern frost the backdrop of 86th jetting above our heads you asked me if I still thought New York was all it was cracked up to be. Yes.
Nicolette
Written by
Nicolette
American
Feb 2, 2013
Feb 2, 2013 at 1:19 PM UTC
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