a poem about a Place in a City, about remembering exactly where you are because it’s where you need to be.
I’ve swallowed the red eyes of espresso, and glitzed away my sugar high of frozen yogurt. This is one of those moments where we go outside of our comfort zones, stretch through our skin, because sometimes skin is only a fence separating us from what we really wish to become. But right now, this is comfortable.
I’m sitting in the Atomic Bean, with Jess. She’s drinking a coke with a straw. There is a holiday collection of pineapples on the counter. This is our second table of the day because the batteries of our laptops are growing weary. Laptops can’t drink caffeine, I guess they are just forbidden to a healthy life style. This seat is colder than the last one because I haven’t had the time to build it into my memory yet. But this is one I would like to hold on to.
These yellow walls are…
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