it's been a long night in new york city

why do i write to louisville today?

probably because i'm thinking of boston.

what is it about these sweet faces and broken parts that remain so utterly appealing?

i picture these grownup lives. with beards, flying airplanes. a corner apartment in the fall. moonlight on nantucket. you can sell your paintings on the sidewalk. dreams dreams dreams, all of them, as shiny in the black water as the moon behind the clouds.

cape cod bay. ohio river.

but softly, in the dark, i see that these boys have never changed, and all these years i'm they're still just dreaming. (with half of my heart.)

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