UNTITLED NO. 2

vancouver
Vancouver, BC. Wikipedia Creative Commons

those bright city lights, I had followed them everywhere.
from the twinkling lamps of Hong Kong markets to
pink and purple smog in Chicago in the morning,
to steel skyscrapers of Dubai – you took my hand and led me.
we lusted after every sunrise, ignored paved road for rugged concrete
waking up with a sweet and sticky crust over our faces.
we fed noodles into each other’s mouths, scrubbed coffee stains
off our bed sheets, and licked off salt from our arms and lips.
We never did go, but your Patagonia coat still carries your smell.

I parted ways where two trees could touch heads
and night could be quiet again.
When you let go, you took metropolis with you,
and the lights flickered and dimmed in New York.

Some mornings, I close the blinds halfway and rub my legs together,
remembering the way you curled around them.
But you were always on the move.

I still spoon honey and mangos into my yogurt
but breakfast is never the same without you.

This poem is included in The Sophomore Year Experience poetry compilation.

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About Amy

Amy is a freelance writer and artist based in LA. Her hobbies include romanticizing her world, having too many moody thoughts, and wandering through neighborhoods she's never been in.
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