It was a long night.
Driving home
just over the hill
at 11 o clock
at night,
and seeing the dazzling lights
the oranges
and reds
brought about
a peculiar sense of calm.
It did not last long,
however,
before it was overshadowed
by the lull
of sorrow.
Somewhere
out in that city,
was a light
that was yours.
Your home.
Do you remember the time
we painted the kitchen?
We splattered each other in paint
after we grew bored of actually painting
and sat in your empty living room
talking about how you didn’t think
that we would ever see each other again.
Funny,
I guess.
We certainly don’t see each
anymore.
Come to think of it
that light doesn’t burn
as bright
as it once did.
Funny.

~LT