Golden hour in New York
Central at Dusk
I was just thinking about you.
You are my blue tent.
You are the Gerbera daisies I come home to every evening – the brightness lighting up the night as I turn the key to open my apartment door
You are the warmth I feel when I hear your voice
and the emptiness when I left you standing there
You are the park bench where I’ll never feel alone, and the laughter I could float away in.
You’re the sunrise over Central when everyone else is asleep but me, and you’re the coffee I’ll always take to my favorite place.
You are all of the stars in Manhattan.