Smoking green, sipping wine, on the roof, in the city. People all around. One million lives below me. One million unfolding destinies. Feet dangling over the edge, and the sun is setting.
Fall is in my lungs, swirling around with everything else. Hearts about to burst.
Do I love you? Do I envy you? Who are you? Vanity, that you are everything that I am? Or, are we all vain, lusting after bones, and blood, and flesh?
Staring up, tracing the edges of buildings silently, slowly. Looking into high rise windows, wondering how similar the beings dwelling within them are to myself. Wondering if we’ve crossed paths, collided, or remained unfamiliar in this life.
One million. One million. And we all love, and sleep, and dream, and die. And we all believe we are demi-gods. And we all believe if this is all a nightmare, it is ours. And we are all right. And we are all wrong. But we are alright.
What I feel. It’s terrifying. My hair blowing about, and you. Sitting calm and still looking beautiful as a movie star, as cool as menthol cigarettes. You, you, what you make me feel makes me so angry, and so happy. Biting my tongue, but smiling, even when I break skin. I can’t take my eyes off you.
I can’t take my mind off you.
I miss the days you missed me. You craved me. What did I do?
So many lives. One is bound to feel the same. And, someone must feel about you the same. Someone else is toying with your name in their mind, wondering where you are, how you are,
and someone has just created you. Dreamt you up. Hoping someday to meet you, though they don’t know we are here. On the roof top. Sipping wine. Smoking green. Wishing we could read one another’s minds.
Wishing there were words for the things we feel.
Trying to tell our stories with the curve of our lips and the wideness of our gorgeous eyes. Hoping for one of us to take a leap.
And the millions below us too. They have longings we’re not aware of, and tribulations we could not begin to understand, and love that goes vein deep, deeper than our shallow affair.
Shallow as Everest is tall.
We’re trying to carve out a place for one another in our still beating hearts.
At least one of us is.