the night

recalls tones of

glass
waiting in hotel lobbies
watching the rain fall against windows so clean
holding hands in the dark of night
waiting weeks to hear if…
waiting minutes with my heart in my throat
giving up
letting the waves roll over
and the sun (for that matter) until the late evening
stone stars leading down
teenagers drinking, laughing, together
empty cobbled streets promising history
arching architecture rising above like a halo hiding
mountains somehow casual building to crescendo
the desire to never go home
the water churning
the sunlight waning
returning home, to awkwardly planned streets
lamps flickering
electricity audible

and the night will only take over
at the worst of times

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