and something long dead.
We climb a short set of stairs.
Then the next door creaks open?—
And the wind attacks me.
I stumble back,
but he catches my hips,
his breath warming my neck.
“Hold steady, my midnight angel.
“You fall, I’m right fuckin’ behind you.”
I look up,
and everything inside me just?—
Stops.
Breathing.
Thinking.
Moving.
We’re on the roof.
The fuckingroof.
And the whole damn city explodes around us,
infinite and impossibly alive.
All glass and moving lights.
Brooklyn Bridge stretches across the dark,
a vein close enough to touch.
The Manhattan Bridge spills light in the other direction.
Skyscrapers scrape the sky,
a city of steel constellations.
I can’t move.
My heart mistakes the moment for music 'cause it's hitting the same. It feels like we just ripped the needle across some forgotten '80s record used to blow out speakers in someone’s Camaro,
volume up,
windows down,
nothing but danger in the night air.
