The city, ever trying to hide it's loneliness, covers itself in a thick blanket of cold rain. But still we see the beauty of it's lights, constellations of defracted halos below soft horizons, all glossy with someone's tears... as we stand alone in midnight windows, our life's companions gone past wondering why we don't come to bed and into indifferent slumber, we yearn paradoxically to share the sublime loneliness as the city has seemingly shared it with us without being touched by us. But we only do not touch it because we are one. One comprised the other. And having seen the lesson in the rain, now it is only late, and cold, and with an early day ahead, I go to bed... again & again.
1 comment:
sounds pretty. i like that. :)
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