By: Aryadita Balakrishnan

Bésame mucho croons Bocelli in the distance

is this the life we yearned

peach fuzz nights

New York glows like a billion eternal fireflies

and where is she going?

do the lovers

past and present converge

are they parallel lines

or merely points on an infinite scape

the bass climbs

eternity takes over

lush blueberry nights

will first conversations 

happen ever again 

or are we damned with familiarity 

 

the incessant din of a hurried train

anxious on behalf of its contents

city hall. fulton st. dekalb ave

watermelon strawberry nights

 

discogothic describes her best

and look, we’re in love already

maybe it’s me. is that Santal 33?

guava blast nights

is love enough

electric eels course down lafayette

dystopian present collides with 

distant futures

cherry freeze nights

what’s left to see