This City - Cosmicity

10: 00 p.m.

I walk under streetlights

across concrete, perfectly damp.

I hear the music of the passing cars.

I feel the pain of invisible stars.

A woman singing from a distant corner

sets the tone for my evening quest.

Her voice is hard to pull from the masses.

This is my city.

I do my best.

12: 00 a.m.

I walk under neon

across grates that breathe with steam.

I hear the roaring of a helpless skyscraper.

I feel the tension in abandoned newspaper.

A happy couple looking out at the water

sets the tone for my midnight quest.

Their true expressions are lost in the masses.

This is my city.

I do my best.

3: 00 a.m.

I walk against red lights —

empty streets, dead with grief.

I hear the dripping of an endless leak.

I feel the pain in this heart I seek.

A lone car in a parking structure

sets the tone for my endless quest.

I can’t quite hear if she’s laughing or crying.

This is my city.

I do my best.