And all those city lights rushing overhead were memories from film characters that do not belong to me. The yellow and white lights sparkle in the distance as the tears drench my pillow sham. My world hovered in a period of hypo-reaction, before the urban machine roared once more to life. It left our silhouettes in the dust of its ambition.

In a moment of weakness, a kaleidoscope of unconnected moments surfaces from the past. I’ll forever remember those grey-blue eyes and that tuft of blonde hair that fell short of your brows. You and me, in a darkness where silence consumed us.

Brooklyn, July, and now you.

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