the sky, like a blanket to the earth, the city haze climbs up, illumination upon the quilting.
letters and confessions, so many letters and confessions.
the bloom, the wilting.
in the palm of the hand of an orbit or two, the earth spins around.
take central avenue, take glory lane, these rivers of concrete, these walls of glass:
a fleeting moment, this too shall pass.
and the city rises up to greet the day, not day. and the surge is like a tidal wave.
three months ago, you're hating me. 
three days ago, you're missing me.
in the palm of the hand of an orbit or two, the earth spins around.
and the surge is like a tidal wave.