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ode to boy in nightclub

by Zoe Antoine-Paul |

All I want is to keep you,

but you are still on the dance floor

and New York City feels like coming down.

An ephemeral march between

pitch black

and too much morning.

You are also there:

blotting memory;

your persistent luster,

strobe lights laced through your skin




bright white.

You blur

into Broadway traffic and

I am alone

in Brooklyn again.

[the last call]

3-train sparking past

as the clock strikes 12.

| Zoe Antoine-Paul writes about the city, the beauty in the mundane, and everyday internal turmoil.

IG: @space.junkie13

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