E Union St

The people spilled out into the street
Close to one in the morning
And there was still a line at the pizza place
The synth pop ricocheted from the back alley
I pulled a few stray notes on my black skirt
As I weaved through the crowd
With slightly skewed cat ears
And eyes covered in smoke
There was a trace of weed in the air
And this was the morning rush
People stumbling from neon light doorways
Trying to find their car, trying to find their home
A bed on the arm of strangers
And I find myself mesmerized
In the stumbling constellations
Of people swaying on the sidewalks
They flickered brightly
Against the back drop of flashing lights and traffic
Looking up, the night sky flowed out
Over the broken creek bed of clouds
And summer tasted of early mornings and hiccupping laughs


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