Twilight

By the time I reach the pier, the winds of sunset have picked up, waves thrashing against the concrete and cascading over lovers, gathered to see the sky on fire. New York beams into the beginning of summer, bares its pale shoulders, asks to have this dance. Your adopted neighborhood attempts to woo you, not realizing how easily swayed your feet, how light your heart. Yes, you say, yes. That is enough. 

The nights are long and lonely. 

But they get shorter
when the midst of summer
draws near.