Of course I miss the beach,
echoed my mind.
I miss the darkness of LA’s night, soulful lost in the rushing roaring rampage of starless black sky who cradles one million faces lit by neon glow like visible loneliness. The beach held my sorrows, her constancy could wash my body in ocean tears, it was only me out there, surfing in her embrace,
in the velvet black water, black air, windswept solitary night where horizon melds with the mountains into which the sea melts,
despite the lonesome hours passed heartaching under blazing rays, nostalgia begins to form a callous over the void and fear that consumed those days and now I see her streets as beautiful, as I never would when my pulsing feet would drag across them waiting for time to accelerate
On the corner of Misery and Paradise, I chose bitterly to cry
eternally waiting at dusk bus stops, alone woman Venice night.
glass stores and garage doors, bringing pizza to soft hands and
warm windows on vacation and pushing on deep into the hours
of night so late they contain every mystery and silence that is held
between our ribs.
our fingertips touching dawn, we would sleep until dusk
so if sun blessed our skin it would feel more like a burn…
I was wrong, the city loved me all along
her time has yet to come,
but her vastness reminds me to be lonely
so I will only pass through
her hills and her valleys…