There was a buzzing

in a heaven of clouds.

A horn from the alley

brought down the house

of pigeons. The air

transformed into a night

beauty.  Neon’s and back

doors offered a refueling

of the psychological

mortgage.  Voices from the

second floor rejoice between

the folds of buildings.  When

night and dark mix, the full

skin of the city bandages

itself.  Nursing the sad of day

with refreshing drinks satisfies

the anxiety within.

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