7.30 pm
A late winter dims the daylights early and spreads the cloudy quilt over the city. and like a rebellious teen, the city stays up and continues the banter....
Through the slow crawling line of cars, honking in broken crescendo...
Through men in cafes who talk loud, laugh, sip black tea, smoke and at hit each other on their back....
Through flickering television screens in front of bored women.....
Through fighting couples behind heavy curtains.....
Through whores with painted faces and noisy stilettos..
Through the undying street lights.....
Through wailing sirens....
Tired but edgy; dirty but scented; big but small inside; the city croons......
I will love you...
if you pay me!
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