Wasted Words

I came of age in the City That Never Sleeps, where the people never smiled and the coffee rarely helped. At night the windows in the skyscrapers were lit up, those brilliant towers filled with insurance claims agents and temps and ad copywriters whiling away the hours until the sun would come back up. I met a girl in the City That Never Sleeps, who told me she hadn’t slept since she visited her grandparents out of state some years back. She was soft, like the moon when you look at it in the corner of your eye. We spent our first nights together inside each others’ bones, but that passed the way all things do in time.