The city is the loneliest place

and unable to sleep

A beautiful clock with an equally gorgeous laugh
          it draws from the shy bowels of yarn
          whatever can’t go back

Then tell some story
Like the one where you’re from

who you are being
or thinking of at least

unable to sleep for the third night in a row
it’s you

which reminds me

how little difference there is
between the city and the love for it

Someone will say it’s Wednesday
But only technically
The sun has yet to rise

As for you
tossing in the dark
in my mind

you, stay,
keep me here
tell me how it went

our life for the billionth time