The Blue Hour Between Two Heartbeats
I used to be like the 11:45 PM bus from Central
Terminal Chronicler
The Pale Yellow Hour Between Departures
I chose this dress because it looks like a memory of sunlight,
The Saltwater Echo of an Unsent Letter
I used to watch the 12:05 AM bus pull away from
The Last Lap Before Twilight
I always run when the city begins to exhale, my sneakers striking
The Yellow Hour Before Midnight
I used to count the minutes by the flicker of fluorescent lights
The Last Stop Before Memory Fades
I used to track time by the rumble of the midnight bus
The Midnight Ticket to Your Skin
The city hums with a tired frequency at midnight, and I have
The Last Drink Before Midnight
I have always felt like a passenger on the last bus of
The Scent of Apricot at Terminal 7
The city breathes in heavy sighs of exhaust and neon, but here
The Amber Hour at Platform Nine
I always arrive just as the city begins to exhale. The last
The Last Dip Before Midnight
I’ve spent three years learning how to be alone in a
The Humidity of Half-Forgotten Summers
I have spent three years learning how to be alone in a
