the cold pavement

makes unpleasant patterns

upon my tired, emotional skin

I cannot lift a finger against the

heat of the night,

my urge to laugh,

or the tears in my eyes.

summer voices rise up from the lazy

midnight streets

leaving me faithless and without the means

to pack all my bags and

return to my life

my face is damp but I have trouble distinguishing

the sweat from the tears.

the heat from the pain.

my eyelids slowly droop but you

stay safely locked inside

and I let the city carry me to sleep

just as the ocean carries the tide.