Alone

His middle finger touched the long scar on her forehead.

"How did you get that?"



She couldn't feel the pressure.

Anne opened her eyes. He wasn't there and the snow was falling heavily outside.

Still, as she turned over, he kissed her between her shoulder blades.

No. She extended the liquid liner past the end of her eyes. She pulled on black leggings and a sweater.

She was the only soul on Fifth Avenue at 4am. She opened her arms to embrace the darkness and shouted, "I want to Play Doh wave forms in the hideaway!"

Sometimes New York was exhilarating. When it was her New York, observed between her finger and thumb. When she was in love in her bed or on the inside of a window and a latte or propped up in a train. When she pulled out purple flowers from the bodega. And when she could see the clouds in the darkness, above the juxtaposed old and new buildings on Second Avenue.